One More Day is Not Enough
by kuhlaine
Summary: Kurt Hummel's rise from social outcast to co-captain of the illustrious Cheerio's is anything but cliche. What's exceedingly bland is his best friend, Quinn Fabray's, new relationship with McKinley's latest all star quarter back, Blaine Anderson. However, Blaine's wandering eye for his girlfriend's second in command keeps things from being anything but ordinary.
1. Chapter 1

**A/N: Whoa hey look at that, a new fic! Happy reading & major shout out to motherof4dragons for being my beta!**

* * *

Kurt Hummel prides himself on a number of his qualities. He prides himself on his sense of style, his ability to spy the best bargains from a mile away, his flexibility, his strictly regimented skin routine — but what he values most is his ability to not fall for the cliché traps of small town living. Lima, Ohio is nothing if not a town full of stereotypes and clichés waiting to be fulfilled. Hardly anyone leaves Lima, and those who do don't often go very far. There was once a rumor during Kurt's sophomore year that a senior, Brett, had taken off in his car one night and headed for San Francisco. This was quickly debunked when Brett reappeared two weeks later, revealing that he'd been living under a bridge the entire time to try and see how long he could go without sleeping.

Kurt fancies himself the exception to the Lima trap. He's openly gay, which in and of itself is an achievement in such a town. What's more notably impressive is his climb to the top of the social food chain despite the initial set back of revealing his sexuality to his close-minded peers. He'd been taken under the wing of the infamous Coach Sylvester, who had seen potential in him, and plucked him straight out of the ranks of his fellow pedestrian students to try out for the Cheerios.

At the time, Kurt had spent hours weighing the pros and cons of trying out for the infamous cheer squad. The Cheerios were social royalty — their signature red uniform demanded respect from boys, girls, and teachers alike. There was little the Cheerios couldn't get away with in a school so dominated by archetypal high school hierarchies. But the Cheerios had never had a boy on the team before — there was no guarantee that they would react kindly if Kurt was granted a spot on the team.

In the end, that single try out was undoubtedly the best decision Kurt had made in his high school career. It had taken some time for him to win over the Cheerio's — Quinn Fabray, their unchallenged leader — in particular. Strangely enough, the two became good friends — Quinn was the kind of friend Kurt had been waiting for all along, someone charismatic and willing to listen. For the first time in his high school career Kurt didn't feel alone. With Quinn came the respect of the rest of the Cheerio's, and before he knew it he'd formed his own clique — just like the ones he'd rolled his eyes at just months ago. He, Quinn, and their fellow Cheerios Brittany and Santana, ruled the halls of McKinley High with iron fists. It wasn't a cliché, Kurt told himself, it was a story of triumph.

And in mere minutes he was going to have another triumph under his belt…

"And in first place, keeping their National Cheer Squad Champion title, we have the McKinley High Cheerios!"

The win wasn't unexpected, but Kurt and Quinn still leapt into the air, wrapping their arms around each other tightly and pulling Santana and Brittany into their celebratory hug. It was their second championship title that they'd secured together — the fourth consecutive championship for the Cheerios overall. Coach Sylvester had worked them to the bone the second school had let them out for the summer to ensure that they were in prime shape for the competition in August. The competition, along with the everyday worried thoughts that came with entering one's senior year of high school, had hung over the Cheerios the entirety of the summer.

But now they were free, cheering and screaming as the crowd let out a deafening round of applause. Kurt ached all over, his joints screaming in protest as he and his teammates continued to bounce with excitement. Every muscle in his body begged him to finally let it rest but the adrenaline pumping through him said otherwise. There are tears of joys in their teammates eyes and even Coach Sylvester looks over at her squad with pride. They're being shuffled off the stage, comically large trophy in hand, when the members of the football team that had come out to support the Cheerios slide up to them.

"Well it looks like congratulations are in order," announces Sam Evans, wrapping an arm around Brittany, ignoring the dirty look Santana shoots his way.

"Party tonight at my place to celebrate?" Finn Hudson offers, glancing between Kurt and Quinn — looking for the official approval.

"Promise your mom won't crash and make us toss out our drinks for soda this time?" Kurt replies with a raised brow, the group snickering at the all too familiar memory of how the last party Finn threw had gone.

"That was one time," Finn protests while throwing his hands in the air. "And yes, I promise. My mom's out of town this time," Finn tacks on in an attempt to save face.

Kurt rolls his eyes before shooting Quinn a look, but it's clear from the way she's looking around the auditorium that she's preoccupied.

"Finn, have you seen—"

Before Quinn can finish her question she's tackled from behind by none other than her boyfriend — the McKinley Titans' all star quarterback, Blaine Anderson. Quinn giggles as Blaine plants a sloppy kiss to her cheek, pulling her up into the air and twirling her proudly.

"Q, you killed it out there!" Blaine praises before releasing his hold on Quinn and giving her a proper congratulatory kiss.

"Spare us the show, haven't we already suffered enough today?" Santana pleads on behalf of the group.

Kurt, Santana, and Brittany had had to sit through plenty of PDA when it came to Quinn's former boyfriends, most notably Finn, but thus far they hadn't had any issues with Blaine. Granted, Blaine had arrived at McKinley midway through the previous year and hadn't even made his relationship with Quinn official until the last week of the school year. They'd barely seen him at all, but from what Quinn had told them during their summer training sessions she and Blaine had seen plenty of each other over the course of the summer.

"We'll save it for the party and charge anyone who wants to look," Blaine easily teases right back, Santana smirking at his quick response.

"Finally, Quinn finds herself a man who speaks my language." Santana offers Blaine a high five which he gladly accepts, solidifying his place in her good graces.

Finn and Sam agree to text them the details of the party, giving the squad one last round of congratulations before heading their separate ways. Kurt and the girls make plans to meet up at Quinn's place to get ready before the party before they go their separate ways. Santana and Brittany link pinkies and make their way to where Brittany's mom is waiting for them, holding a celebratory platter of lemon squares, while Quinn gleefully bounds over to her parents, Blaine faithfully in tow behind her. She accepts a bouquet of lilies from her father, and a kiss on the cheek from Blaine with the widest grin a girl can muster. She's the picture of happiness, so wonderfully filled with joy that Kurt can't help but smile along with her even though there's no one waiting in the lobby for him.

His father wasn't a fan of the changes he'd seen in his son since he rocketed to the top of the social food chain. He'd become shorter with his father, more annoyed when he held strong on the rules they'd had in place for years. Suddenly Kurt found his 9pm curfew unfair, never alerted his dad when he would stay over at a friends, and abandoned his yearly summer job at the auto shop for cheerleading practices. Burt wasn't the confrontational type, but he had his ways of making his feelings clear. His lack of presence when it came to competitions and performances was one of them.

Kurt brushes off all thoughts of his father as he gives Quinn a wave goodbye before heading out to his car. The last thing he needs is thoughts of his dad disrupting his adrenaline high. He cranks up the radio and sings along to every song he knows as he makes his way home, throwing all of his lingering energy into giving his car the performance of a lifetime. An old man honks his horn and gives Kurt a thumbs up as he finishes off his performance of Shallow and he even smiles back, letting himself believe that the old man's wandering eye is flattering as opposed to creepy.

His dad is thankfully still out at the shop by the time Kurt pulls into the driveway, no doubt Burt's attempt at avoiding a tense conversation over the competition. Kurt takes full advantage of having the house to himself as he throws himself into his post-competition routine. He indulges in a steaming hot shower, continues belting out his favorite top forty hits, and lathers his skin in the overly priced hydrating oils that he saves for special occasions.

Before he heads over to Quinn's he ambles over to his dad's liquor cabinet. His dad is seldom out this late, so he might as well take every advantage he has. He pours a bit of rum, the most noticeably untouched bottle, into a flask he typically kept hidden in his sock drawer, resisting the urge to take a quick swig before heading out — underage drinking he can endorse, but not before driving.

Even without that stolen sip Kurt is buzzing by the time he gets to Quinn's place. On the car ride over he gives himself a moment to revel in the glory of it all. Nearly three years ago he'd been terrified of his classmates — keeping to himself as much as he possibly could in the hopes that he would be left alone. People like Kurt were the perfect target for the hormonal teenage imbeciles that ruled the school. The further out of sight he was, the better. Now he here he was, firmly in the sight of every McKinley student. There was a hardly a student, freshman or senior, that didn't know about him and his rise to fame. Life is sweet, he thought. So wonderfully, perfectly sweet.

* * *

When Kurt walks into Quinn's bedroom he can immediately sense the tension in the air. Brittany is delicately braiding Santana's hair — her own blonde locks tied up in an intricate halo of intertwined braids. Santana is attempting to fill in her brows, but is neglecting her mirror in favor of glaring at Quinn, leaving her with a painfully thick left brow.

Quinn, meanwhile, is completely oblivious to it all, giggling and resting her head on Blaine's shoulder. Wait — Blaine?! Kurt does a double take so swiftly it jolts a muscle in his neck and he has to struggle to hide his wince as he steps into the room. Santana shoots him a knowing look, and Brittany gives him a tight lipped smile. Quinn doesn't acknowledge Kurt's presence, still consumed by giggles over whatever it is Blaine's done that's brought her so much joy.

Blaine is equally oblivious, looking at Quinn like she's the sun and the moon, grinning from ear to ear. He only looks up when Santana clears her throat, chasing the stars from his eyes to look up and catch sight of Kurt, frozen in the doorway.

"Took you long enough!" Quinn chastises as she leaps out of Blaine's arms to run to Kurt.

She gives him a kiss on each cheek and Kurt can smell the fruity notes of wine on her breath, her lips leaving sugar-sticky marks in their wake.

"I like to drive sober, sue me," Kurt replies dryly.

"Admirable," Blaine comments from his place on Quinn's bed, lifting his beer in a toast.

It's the first time Blaine has ever spoken to him, Kurt realizes. Most of the previous school year had been consumed by Blaine and Quinn's dance of will-they-won't-they — too busy passing notes and exchanging glances to pay much mind to anyone outside of their orbit. His hair is less gelled than he's seen it before, loose curls framed nicely with just the right amount of product — if Kurt says so himself. He wonders if Quinn styled him for the night — he doubts anyone in Lima, Ohio would think to pair such a dashing blue J. Crew polo with the snug khakis he has on. He makes a note to congratulate Quinn on a job well done.

Quinn pushes a red cup into his hands, the same fruity scent on her lips emanating from it in waves. Whatever it is, it's a lot stronger than the wine coolers they were used to sneaking in between Cheerio practices. Santana appears to be in much higher spirits now that the Blaine and Quinn Show has been interrupted, breaking her eyes away from Blaine to blow Kurt a welcoming kiss.

"Thanks for joining us, Princess of Genovia," she greets with a regal wave.

"For the record, I'm taking that as a compliment," Kurt retorts, taking a sip of the drink Quinn handed him and immediately sputtering. "Jesus, what is this? Wine coolers and motor oil?" he balks as he hands the drink off to Brittany who accepts it eagerly.

Santana and Blaine are fighting back chuckles while Quinn huffs at her best friend's response. "I tried to make us a specialty drink. Don't be ungrateful, this is top shelf stuff," Quinn corrects, stealing the cup back from Brittany and handing it back to Kurt firmly.

"More like top shelf at my dad's shop," Kurt whispers under his breath as he crosses the room to take his usual spot at Quinn's vanity.

His whispered comeback isn't as quiet as he thought though, as Blaine easily picks up on it.

"Your dad owns the auto shop on Main Street, right?" he asks, shifting himself to the edge of the bed.

"Yeah. Why?" Kurt replies, not sure how Blaine hasn't picked up on the well known fact that Kurt Hummel has a direct relation to **Hummel **Tires and Lube.

"I had to swing by there a couple of times over the summer. My car's been on its last legs for a while now."

"B still drives the car his granddad gave him when he turned sixteen — I swear it's going to fall apart every time I get in it," Quinn laments, ignoring the eye roll Blaine gives her and the scoff from Santana at the matching nickname. "Kurt, tell him he needs to upgrade to a car from this century," Quinn commands with a wave of her hand.

"For the safety of my best friend, and your bank account, I'm going to say you should bite the bullet and start taking the bus again," Kurt says directly to Blaine with a shrug.

"It's from the nineties, it's a little banged up but it's got good bones," Blaine defends, his cheeks tinged pink.

"Speaking of bones," Santana interrupts more loudly than necessary, attempting to shift the focus of the room back to anyone that wasn't the uninvited guest. "That guy from Ohio State sent me a dick pic last night," she says with a mischievous smirk.

Quinn and Brittany immediately flank her, peaking over her shoulder as she pulls up the photo in question. Kurt rolls his eyes and Blaine wrinkles his nose at the sight. While the girls may love to squeal over the elicit photos they frequently received from the slobbering men they encountered, Kurt preferred not to have to look at photos of anatomy similar to his own.

"Sorry, you'll have to get used to this," Kurt excuses on behalf of the girls to Blaine.

"Thanks for the warning," he murmurs in reply, shaking himself off before turning to Kurt with the same earnest, puppy dog eyes Kurt had thought were reserved for Quinn.

"I think I saw you over the summer — at your dad's shop."

Kurt certainly hadn't noticed Blaine at any point during the select few times he was at the shop over the summer, and he's not sure how the thought of Blaine seeing him but not saying hello makes him feel. He knows Blaine means well but he can't help but feel as though he was a prey being watched closely by its predator.

"We had Cheerio practice most days. I only went to the shop maybe a dozen times. You probably saw someone else," he replies, hoping to keep things casual.

"No way, it was definitely you. Q always talks about great your style is — there's no way anyone could've rocked those coveralls but you," he insists and Kurt is shocked to say the least.

His custom designed coveralls, adorned with embroidered lilies along the sleeves and a series of tasteful patches along the back, had caused quite a bit of chatter over the years — so much so, in fact, that Burt had politely asked his son to only bring it out when his usual coveralls were all dirty.

"We're here to focus on cars, bud. This isn't a runway," he'd said, which had led to yet another enormous fight — one in a series of enormous fights that had led Kurt to crash at Quinn's house for a week straight.

"Thank you. My dad kind of hates them actually," Kurt admits sheepishly, not sure why he's revealing such a fresh wound to someone he barely knows.

"Well, I'm not one to disrespect my elders, but…" Blaine leans in closer to Kurt, a mischievous smirk playing at his lips, "He's insane if he doesn't love them," Blaine assures, giving Kurt a wink.

With that Blaine lifts himself off the bed and slides on over to the girls, wrapping an arm around Quinn's waist and whispering something in her ear that makes her blush. In his wake Blaine leaves an open-mouthed Kurt, still reeling and at a complete loss for words. Perhaps it had all been Kurt's imagination, but Blaine's words seemed as though they were bordering on something more than just casual conversation. It had seemed… flirty?

No, absolutely not, there was no way Blaine was trying to flirt with him. He was already off whispering what were likely dirty sweet nothings in Quinn's ear as though his brief conversation with Kurt had never happened. It had been weeks since Kurt had had any kinds of development in the romance section of his life — maybe this was his body's way of telling him it was starving for male attention. Maybe it was time to redownload Grindr…

Kurt shudders at the thought of revisiting the god-awful app. Santana had convinced him to download it the previous summer after he'd spent too many afternoons moaning and groaning about being the only person on the squad who had never been kissed. Downloading the app had helped him succeed in crossing his first kiss, and a few other intimate items, off of his bucket list — but it hadn't been without its fair share of drama.

The girls are well ahead of Kurt when it comes to drinks, and thankfully none of them notice when he pours the rest of his own 'specialty drink' out the window. They down two more drinks each — Blaine opens up a second beer for himself — and the tension finally begins to melt away. Santana, reinvigorated with each passing sip, forgets that she was angry with Blaine for crashing their 'girls' only pre-game in favor of grilling him with a series of blush-worthy questions. Quinn is too busy fretting over Brittany's makeup to pay them any mind, but Blaine artfully works his way out of answering any of Santana's prying questions without igniting any of her wrath. Kurt is fine with watching the spectacle unfold, enjoying the way Blaine squirms under Santana's gaze a bit more than he should.

It seems like Santana finally has Blaine cornered, persistently asking him about his sexual escapades before he transferred to McKinley, when Quinn finally decides to intervene.

"Draw your claws back in, Santana. He's not one of your chew toys," Quinn admonishes, swatting her hand at Santana until she's backed a reasonable distance away from Blaine.

"I'm just giving him the proper "Quinn Fabray's Latest Boyfriend Treatment." It wouldn't be fair to let him slide," she snaps back, her words all bite and no humor.

Quinn shifts uncomfortably, avoiding the confused look Blaine gives her. It's no secret that Quinn's gone through her fair share of boyfriends — Blaine alone was her second boyfriend that year. It was a sensitive topic for Quinn, something she only confided in Kurt about — that her need for security and love and affection outweighed her insecurities over being seen as the flighty serial boyfriend hopper.

The tension creeps back into the room as everyone carefully thinks through what to say next. Brittany shoots Kurt a pleading look — they both know it's on them to shift the mood of the room. With the amount of alcohol flowing they're only seconds away from someone saying something they may regret.

"I think we've pre-gamed enough," Kurt announces loud enough to gather everyone's attention, standing up and clapping his hands together for good measure. "We're already bordering on un-fashionably late. Let's go before the meatheads drink all the good stuff," he suggests, Brittany nodding enthusiastically.

Typically Kurt hates being stuck as the designated driver — driving around a pack of tipsy high school girls demanding to stick their head out the sun roof and play the same songs over and over could drive anyone insane — but it's a sacrifice he's willing to make to keep Quinn and Santana from tearing each other apart before the night has even begun. Blaine, the second most sober person in the room, happily agrees to be the navigator and takes the passenger seat. The tension has mostly dissipated as the girls climb into the backseat together, chattering and giggling amongst themselves and paying their dutiful drivers no mind as they take commemorative selfies in between sharing pieces of gossip.

Blaine, to his credit, is a helpful navigator — keeping his calm the entire drive as he helps keep the girls from getting too rowdy, and even very gracefully convincing Santana not to flash the car beside them when they're stopped at a red light. When he leans just a tad too far over to look over Kurt's shoulder at the GPS Kurt tells himself that maybe Blaine's the type of person who doesn't have boundaries.

When Blaine accidentally drops his sunglasses on the console between his and Kurt's seats and brushes his pinky finger against Kurt's thigh while retrieving said glasses, Kurt tells himself that Blaine is **definitely **the type of person who doesn't have boundaries.

When Quinn tries to get Kurt to take part in their game of fuck, marry, kill and he refuses so he can focus on getting himself out of the confusing intersection they've found themselves in, Blaine comes to his defense when Quinn begins to whine. He placates her by playing along in Kurt's place and leans across the center console to whisper in Kurt's ear.

"You're welcome."

The whispered words are hot and breathy against Kurt's ear and he prays that Blaine doesn't notice the goosebumps that bloom along the skin where his lips had hovered just seconds earlier. These are the first three signs that Blaine Anderson is going to be a problem.


	2. Chapter 2

**A/N: Hello and welcome back! Thank you so much to everyone that has read/commented/bookmarked/etc thus far - you're all wonderful and kind and I appreciate you all!**

**I'm hoping I'll be able to set up a regular posting schedule later down the line, but life is still hectic at the moment as I'm in the process of moving into my new place - so updates may be sporadic for a bit.**

**Thank you for reading!**

* * *

The party is in full swing by the time Kurt pulls up to Finn Hudson's driveway. Kurt groans as he quickly realizes that he's several drinks behind everyone at this party, based on the amount of noise emanating from the building alone. Blaine helps Santana and Brittany exit the car without snapping their ankles, and is particularly delicate with Quinn as she nearly trips just two steps out of the car. He wraps an arm firmly around her waist, pulling her in as close as he can — not that she minds. She leans her head on his shoulder and glances up at him with glazed eyes.

"You're like Prince Charming," she murmurs just loud enough for Kurt to hear and make Blaine blush.

He shakes his head, batting off the compliment. "You're the only fairytale royalty here," he replies, placing a chaste kiss to the top of her head.

Kurt's heart aches at the simple but tender display of affection. The glow that always seems to cover them whenever they're together would be insufferable if they weren't so goddamned cute together. Kurt makes up a resolution in his mind to forget his earlier prejudices against Blaine. Sure, he may be a bit creepy — but what teenage boy isn't? Besides, Kurt isn't exactly the most approachable of people. And sure, Blaine may not have any sense of personal boundaries, but he's sweet and charismatic, and quite frankly, Kurt's finding it difficult not to like him. The age old saying was true - the best ones are either gay or taken, and unfortunately for Kurt, Blaine was the latter.

Thankfully Kurt doesn't spend much time dwelling on his own loneliness, as the drama of the evening begins the moment they walk in. The first person Santana spots upon entering the Hudson home is an incredibly drunk, and louder than usual (which is saying a lot), Rachel Berry in full command of the karaoke machine in the living room.

"Finn's never let us do karaoke before," Brittany says with a pout, taking a step towards the crowd that has gathered around Rachel before Santana roughly yanks her back.

"Finn doesn't have a karaoke machine. Look at it, Berry brought it herself," Santana snaps, eyes narrowed to slits.

The small, pink machine is covered in gold stars of various shapes, sizes, and glitter ratios — definitely not something Finn Hudson would own. Rachel's audience is a combination of fellow glee club members and some lacrosse players that are stoned out of their minds. The glee club kids stand out like sore thumbs — one girl, Mercedes Jones, Kurt recognizes, looks as though she's fully prepared to die of embarrassment.

"What're those losers doing here?" Quinn asks when she finally breaks away from Blaine long enough to take in the disastrous sight.

"Alright, this is the last time we're letting Hudson throw a party. This is supposed to be about us, not the Rachel Berry Power Hour," Santana shouts, breaking away from the group to seek out Finn.

Kurt and Brittany nervously tail after her. It's a death wish to get in Santana's way when she's walking down the warpath, but as annoyed as they may be about the presence of Rachel Berry and her band of music geeks there's no need to shed blood this early into the night. Santana finds Finn in the kitchen engaged in a passionate discussion about Pokemon with Mike Chang, another footballer.

"What's the deal, Lumps?" Santana throws her arms in the air as she immediately crowds Finn's space, knocking Mike off to the side. "I thought you said this was a party for us?"

Finn needs a minute to process what Santana's shouting at him, blinking several times in confusion. "It is… Didn't you guys see the cake with Quinn's face on it in the living room?"

Brittany is immediately distracted by the mention of cake and disappears from Santana's side in search of it. Kurt rolls his eyes as he steps up to take her place, looping an arm through Santana's to keep her a safe distance from Finn.

"Then why is this place crawling with Lima losers?" Santana spits back, gesturing towards the living room.

"Lima losers?" Finn replies, clearly too many drinks in to be able to keep up with Santana.

"The glee club, dumb ass. You have Rachel Berry in your living room trying to make Bette Midler roll over in her grave."

"Santana, Bette Midler isn't dead," Kurt whispers to her out of the corner of his mouth. He'd promised himself he wouldn't interject, but he simply can't let musical theatre inaccuracies slide.

"Who gives a shit!" Santana shouts back in response, ripping her arm away from Kurt. "Now tell them to leave, now!" Santana commands, deftly avoiding Kurt's attempt to block her from approaching Finn and grabbing the taller boy by the collar.

Kurt rolls his eyes as Santana drags Finn back into the living room, trailing behind them at a leisurely pace. So far this night was shaping up to be an absolute train wreck. Finn's brain finally managed to get caught up with the program by the time he was forced into the center of the circle of Glee kids. Rachel had finally wrapped up her performance of Ribbons Down My Back and was blinking up at Finn with wide eyes so sweet and innocent it made Kurt want to gag.

Kurt had never particularly minded the Glee club kids - though he shared a collective sentiment that Rachel Berry was sent straight from hell to torture the already unfortunate souls at McKinley High School. There had been a time when Kurt himself had considered joining the glee club - but he was already at a high risk of complete social isolation, joining the glee club would've been the final proverbial nail in his coffin.

Half of them look scared to death as Santana launches into a half Spanish half English tirade, pointing her finger accusingly at each of them in turn. One boy, the one with the terrible bangs and the wheelchair — Arnie? — looks as though he might wet himself. Kurt feels a pang of guilt for Tina Cohen-Chang, the shy girl from his English class. She may be terribly misguided when it came to fashion, but she seemed sweet enough and was one of the few people in the class who could actually string together a coherent piece of writing.

The club trembles collectively when Rachel, emboldened by whatever drink is being passed around, decides to take a stab at tearing down Santana. There are many rules when it comes to McKinley social etiquette — and king of them all is that no one talks back to Santana Lopez. Rachel barely opens her mouth before Santana is on her, hurling insult after insult until her voice begins to crack. Rachel, to her credit, doesn't even flinch when Santana's face is suddenly mere inches from her. Whatever they're saying is lost as they shout over one another on top of whatever song is already blasting. Finn, the only person in the room with enough physical strength to put an end to this catfight, is standing off to the side slack jawed and eyes blown wide.

"Awesome," Finn murmurs under his breath when Santana decides to take things to a new level and scratches at Rachel's chest with her ruby red claws.

Kurt groans for what feels like the hundredth time that night when he realizes things are now in his hands. He grabs the half full red cup in Tina's hand and approaches Rachel and Santana, intending to pour the drink on them to fizzle them out long enough to get them back under control. He lifts the cup into the air, but before he can take aim Santana is lifted up and hoisted away from Rachel. Blaine, graceful as the wind, props Santana up on his shoulder with ease and carries her off to the other side of the room. Rachel takes this opportunity to catch her breath, but Santana continues on, her voice ringing in the room until Blaine finally manages to get her a safe enough distance away.

"Five minutes and she already started a fight, must be a new record," Quinn says as she suddenly appears beside Kurt, seeming more put together than she had just moments earlier.

"Well, nice of you to make an appearance at the last possible second," Kurt replies, meaning it sarcastically but still annoyed by Quinn's disappearance during the few minutes he needed her most. She had a way with Santana that he and Brittany couldn't understand — she was the Lopez whisperer.

"I'm not supposed to watch over her 24/7," Quinn snaps back, easily picking up on the annoyance in Kurt's voice.

"Where were you anyway?" Kurt asks, crossing his arms across his chest.

Quinn flushes, ducking her eyes away from Kurt as she sheepishly tugs a lock of hair behind her ear. "That's none of your concern," she replies with a hiccup, flushing down to the roots of her hair.

Kurt rolls his eyes before walking away from her with a groan. She'd obviously been off having a grand old time with Blaine, abandoning her friends before they'd even entered the party. While Kurt had decided that he didn't have anything against Blaine, Quinn was particularly difficult to be around when she was in a relationship — which was, unfortunately, most of the time. The minute a boy entered the picture her friends were left at the wayside. Sure, she made time for their weekly hang outs and still spent most of her time with them at Cheerio practice, but she snatched up every opportunity she could to spend time with her beaus, even if it meant cancelling on long held plans last minute.

Kurt heads back to the kitchen in hopes of distracting himself with some much needed alcohol. The specialty drink of the evening is questionable at best, smelling of nail polish remover and pineapple juice, but it'll have to do. Kurt can quickly see how the party got so out of hand so quickly, the drink hits him like a ton of bricks and within minutes he's feeling the tension roll off of his shoulders. His inhibitions begin to blur at the edges and each sip of the strange drink makes him bolder and bolder.

Eventually Kurt finds his way back to Santana and Brittany. He caught sight of them on the other side of the living room trapped in a conversation with Jacob Ben Israel, and swept them away to safety by claiming he needed them for a 'girls-only emergency.' Santana had calmed down after her cat fight with Rachel Berry. Their respective groups of friends did their best to keep the two as far from each other as possible.

Blaine had won his way back into Santana's good graces in the aftermath of the screaming match. He'd carried her off into one of the open bedrooms and sat with her until she'd calmed down, listening to her rant about losers cramping her style and handing her glasses of water whenever necessary.

"The Hobbit can stay," Santana decrees as she recounts everything to Kurt.

"I hope Quinn lets him stay," Brittany muses, gazing at Blaine over the rim of her cup.

The group collectively glance at Blaine who's on the opposite side of the room, engrossed in his animated conversation with Sam Evans. Quinn had one rule in her relationships and it was that she was never dumped, she always did the dumping. Finn had been no exception. They'd been together for nearly a year, the longest relationship she'd been in thus far — but after Christmas she decided to call it quits, claiming that she couldn't see a future with someone like him.

Blaine certainly checked off her preliminary boxes. His social status was up to par with her own, he was more put together than the rest of the slobbering boneheads at McKinley, and he had all the charm and good looks of a Disney prince.

"How long do you think it'll last?" Kurt asks once they're able to pry their eyes away from Blaine.

Santana shrugs, taking another sip of her drink. "Hard to say. He's definitely better than Hudson, but Quinn tends to make the worst possible decisions when it comes to men," she says and Brittany nods in agreement.

Kurt shrugs — he knows that she's right. Blaine's future most likely entailed having his sweet little heart broken by Quinn within the year. It was a shame, really. He's far more useful than any of the other guys Quinn has dated — at least he can drive.

"Maybe they'll get married," Brittany suggests with a dreamy smile.

Kurt raises a brow at the thought. He wouldn't put it past Quinn to marry a high school sweetheart, and certainly wouldn't put it past her to start planning her wedding while in high school. It was too soon to tell if Blaine was marriage material — it had taken Quinn nearly a year to realize Finn wasn't up for the job. But if her parents caught wind of her and Blaine's 'after school activities' a wedding would definitely be on the table sooner than anticipated. The Fabrays had their fair share of scandals throughout the years, but above all else they were praised for their piety. They were religious to a fault, and Quinn, while lax in some of her beliefs, wasn't far behind them in that respect.

"Weddings are for suckers and desperate housewife wannabes," Santana says with a snort before downing the rest of her drink.

Brittany frowns, toying with her cup mindlessly before looking over to where Quinn is chatting with some of their fellow Cheerios.

"I think Quinn would look really pretty in a wedding dress," Brittany says with a shy smile.

Before Santana or Kurt can respond Finn Hudson comes tumbling into the room, carrying a handle of tequila in one hand and an empty beer bottle in the other. After the incident with Rachel and Santana earlier Finn had thrown himself off the deep end, choosing to get completely shit-faced instead of dealing with any of the problems at hand, letting the party begin to get out of control at a steady rate.

"Everyone get to the basement, it's time for spin the bottle!" Finn announces to the crowd in the living room, several people exchanging curious looks before heading for the basement.

"What're we in middle school?" Kurt says with a scoff, startled to find Santana, Brittany, and Quinn all headed for the basement. "Are you guys kidding me?" he calls out to his friends.

"Hey, it's an excuse to get my sweet lady kisses on," Santana says with a wink, linking her pinky through Brittany's.

Quinn shrugs before looping her arm through Kurt's, pulling him towards the wave of people heading downstairs. "C'mon, you know spin the bottle always creates the best gossip," she teases with a smirk.

Kurt bites his lip before giving in and letting Quinn pull him along. The level of drunkenness in the room, plus the odd mix of McKinley royalty and McKinley social outcasts would make for a _very _interesting round of spin the bottle.

Typically Kurt would prefer to sit out of games like spin the bottle — it was a harsh reminder that his sexuality was still the butt of far too many jokes. Girls would sigh in relief when their bottles landed on him — he was always the safest option in the room, and boys would lament with over-exaggeration that there was _no way_ they were going to kiss another boy. It really was like playing with middle schoolers.

But Kurt was feeling bold that evening. He wasn't sure if it was the overpowering speciality drink loosening his moral compass, or the nagging feeling of being left out, or the unfamiliar boy he'd spotted earlier in the kitchen who he could have swore was sneaking peaks at him from over his friends' shoulders — but whatever it was, Kurt decides to play.

Kurt, Quinn, Santana, and Brittany sit down on the floor together, knees touching as they crowd together to make room for everyone around them. It's by far the largest game Kurt has witnessed, with nearly 40 participants. Kurt grimaces at the sight of Dave Karofsky joining the circle, praying to a God he doesn't even believe in that he gets anyone — even Rachel Berry — over Karofsky. There was always something about him that made Kurt uncomfortable. It always seemed as though his gaze lingered over Kurt for just a second too long when they crossed paths during football games or in the locker room.

"Alright, my house, my rules," Finn says adamantly as he takes center stage. "Rule number one: if you don't kiss whoever the bottle lands on, you've gotta take a shot." He holds up the handle of tequila for emphasis, grinning as the crowd around him nods in understanding. "Rule number two: no couples, that's lame. If the bottle lands on someone you're dating it automatically switches to whoever's on their right."

Quinn frowns at this, admittedly unusual, rule. Blaine shoots her a sympathetic shrug from his place across the circle. Mike Chang leans over to nudge Blaine jokingly in the ribs, Blaine brushing him off with flushed cheeks.

"Sure seems like an unfair rule," Quinn mutters under her breath, glaring up at Finn who's still relishing his moment as the center of attention.

"He's just trying to rile you up, don't take the bait," Kurt replies, patting Quinn's hand. "You're better than that," he assures with a smile.

Quinn squeezes his hand in return, giving him a grateful smile before returning her attention to Finn's remaining rules. It was no secret that Finn had been hurt by Quinn's relationship with Blaine becoming official only a few months after their breakup. Finn wasn't the brightest, and was definitely lacking in the emotional intelligence department — which led to childish attempts to get back at Quinn instead of handling things like an adult.

The game starts off innocent enough. Tina Cohen-Chang lands on Mike Chang and they share a sweet kiss that leaves them both blushing and sharing nervous glances for the remainder of the game. Santana lands on Sam Evans and they share a surprisingly steamy kiss, the two breaking apart when the briefest flash of tongues appeared.

"Trouty mouth's got game," Santana teases loud enough for all to hear as she settles back into her seat with a triumphant smirk. Sam grins as he's patted on the back by his friends.

Rachel Berry's breath hitches during her own turn, biting down roughly on her lip as she watches the bottle with wide eyes. She lets out an excited squeal when the bottle lands on Finn, clamping her hand over her mouth in embarrassment as the group snickers at her reaction. Finn glances nervously at Quinn, who averts her gaze as the two make their way to one another. Their kiss is more passionate than expected, the two going back for a second kiss after the first, and nearly going for a third when Santana clears her throat to get their attention.

"Cool it, or else you might suck out her precious vocal chords," Santana calls out. Rachel is too overwhelmed by the kiss to respond to Santana, returning to her seat in a Finn-centric fog.

"Figures," Quinn whispers under her breath at the moony eyed look on Finn's face as he gazes at Rachel.

She doesn't have much time to stew on Finn and Rachel's display, as Blaine is up next. He winks at Quinn as he steps up and twirls the bottle with a flourish. Kurt can sense the tension in the air as the bottle spins on and on and on for what feels like an eternity. Quinn's fingers curl into knuckles as it begins to slow down, looking for a second as though it's going to land on Rachel, only for it to gracefully slide to a halt directly in front of Quinn herself. The group erupts into cheers and taunts, Blaine's teammates razzing him as Quinn rolls her eyes at the spectacle.

"So close, sorry man," Mike teases as he pats Blaine on the back hard enough to make him wince.

Kurt swallows hard when Quinn turns to him with a soft smile, realizing that he's sitting to Quinn's right, which means Blaine has to kiss _him. _

"I'm glad it's you. If it was anyone else and I would've been a wreck for the rest of the night," Quinn whispers to him, squeezing his arm as she urges him to meet Blaine in the center of the circle.

"Watch out, Fabray. Hummel might try to steal your man," Karofsky teases loud enough for everyone to hear and join in on the laughter, Kurt trying to tell himself that it doesn't hurt when Santana and Brittany laugh along.

Quinn, graceful as always, chooses not to respond. She rolls her eyes at Karofsky and takes a long sip of her drink instead. Kurt notices that Blaine doesn't laugh at Karofsky's joke. It's a small comfort moments before he's going to make a fool of himself, Kurt muses internally.

Kurt decides to put them both out of their misery and places a lightning quick kiss to Blaine's cheek, already headed back to his seat before Blaine can even process what's happened. The crowd boos the display, mocking Kurt for his cowardice.

"C'mon, Lady Lips, you're better than that!" Santana taunts, blocking Kurt from returning to his seat.

"Oh for the love of—"

Kurt is cut off by a hand firmly wrapping around his arm and turning him back around. Another hand is on the back of his neck and suddenly lips are crashing against his. He lets out a squeak of surprise, his eyes remaining open in shock for another second before his brain can catch up with his body. He relaxes as he feels the hand on his arm slide down to grip his waist, holding him steady. The kiss is warm and sure and their lips slot so perfectly together. There's no bumping of teeth or readjusting of mouths or weird saliva exchange. Simply put, it's perfect. Perfect in the technical sense, and so much more.

Kurt doesn't believe in kissing, if he's being totally honest. He often finds it awkward, and gross, and a pointless dance that he'd rather cut entirely if it means getting to the chase. But this moment is enough to bring back his faith in kissing. Maybe some kisses are worthwhile.

They pull apart with a wet smack and Kurt slowly opens his eyes to confirm that yes, Blaine was the owner of those lips and wow had he ever noticed how nice and plump and pink Blaine's lips were before? How is Quinn able to get any work done when Blaine is around? How does she keep herself from melting every time he leans in to kiss her?

"You deserved the full Blaine Anderson treatment," Blaine teases as he releases his hold on Kurt's waist, finally knocking Kurt out of his daze.

"Right. Yeah. Thanks," Kurt replies, mentally berating himself for sounding like an absolute idiot as he stumbles back to his seat.

The girls are holding back giggles as he rejoins them, Quinn nudging her shoulder against his. "Isn't he a great kisser?" she asks with a grin.

Kurt smiles and nods, not trusting himself to put together coherent sentences just yet. Besides, there's no graceful way to tell your best friend that her boyfriend has just given you the most mind-blowing kiss you've ever experienced.

"You're one lucky woman, Quinn Fabray," Kurt finally replies.

His words aren't loud enough for Quinn to hear, but he doesn't bother repeating them. Instead he glances over at Blaine across the room, and feels his heart jump when Blaine locks eyes with him moments later. He tells himself that he imagines the wink Blaine sends him before returning his attention back to the game — but he lets one small, tiny part of himself hold onto the hope that maybe, just maybe, his mind wasn't playing tricks on him.


	3. Chapter 3

Kurt Hummel doesn't do crushes — or rather, he doesn't do them anymore. His first ever crush on his second grade art school teacher, Mr. Bittenheim, is the first step on the years long journey of becoming comfortable with his sexuality. A misguided crush on Finn Hudson of all people is what pushes Kurt to finally come out his freshman year. Thankfully, the Finn of it all is kept under wraps. Kurt was already dealing with an onslaught of taunts and ridicule from his classmates as the news of his sexuality spread throughout the school like wildfire — the last thing he needed was for everyone to know that he was also desperate enough to pine after a boy who was convinced he'd seen Jesus in a grilled cheese.

But Kurt hadn't sworn off of men entirely — he'd just rid himself of his hopelessly romantic ideals. He frequently reminded himself that the worlds of Notting Hill, The Holiday, and Sleepless in Seattle were just fiction, and that the romantic world, especially the romantic world of Lima, Ohio, would never be as idyllic as Kurt had once hoped.

Kurt had indulged a bit when it came to the dating scene, though he preferred to venture out of Lima for his romantic exploits. The thought of running into someone from school while out on a date — or even worse, going out with someone from McKinley — made him sick to his stomach. He'd met a handful of boys from OSU via the various dating apps Santana had encouraged him to download. The boys from Grinder were… eager, to say the least. There had been one boy, Gabe, a freshman sociology major, from Tinder that Kurt had briefly entertained the idea of pursuing a relationship with. He was handsome, by Kurt's standards, and intelligent and polite, three qualities Kurt had yet to find in just one person. After their third date Kurt granted Gabe permission to take things further, winking up at the other boy after they'd pulled apart from a particularly steamy 'goodnight' kiss. The next morning Kurt awoke alone in Gabe's cramped dorm issued twin bed — a note on the nightstand from Gabe thanking Kurt for the amazing night and promising to text him later in the week. The text never came, and Kurt moved on.

All that said, Kurt saw no issue with indulging in the occasional morning or nightly fantasy. Hazy, euphoric visions of Taylor Lautner in a field of lavender and Harry Styles along the coast of Tuscany often came to Kurt in the early mornings as he tangled himself in his sheets and lazily stroked himself until he was jolted awake by the force of his orgasm. Despite his best efforts to keep his fantasies limited strictly to celebrities, the occasional classmate or acquaintance appeared every now and then. Though he would never admit it, Finn had been the object of quite a few of said fantasies during Kurt's freshman year. Thus, when Blaine made a sudden appearance in one of Kurt's dreams in the days following their game of spin the bottle, he didn't see it as too concerning at first. He was a teenage boy after all, and the last time he'd had any type of romantic action had been months ago — he was just desperate.

But the dreams of Blaine didn't go away. They came back night after night, growing more and more intense with each passing day. What had started as simple playbacks of the intense kiss they'd shared had evolved into Blaine's fingers gliding along Kurt's suddenly bare skin, his lips sucking against the tender skin of his neck. Kurt would go slack in Blaine's warm, strong arms, giving himself over completely until he finally found the strength to rut himself against Blaine. He'd drag his rapidly rising cock along Blaine's thigh until his orgasm came crashing over him and sent him catapulting into reality — reality being an abused decorative pillow, and a now sticky bundle of bed sheets.

This isn't to say that Kurt has a crush on Blaine — that would be absurd. Blaine was very evidently straight, and more importantly, very unavailable. This was just Kurt's body's way of telling him that it was time to dip a toe into the dating pool again, nothing more… or at least that was what Kurt told himself every morning to keep himself from feeling guilty at the mere sight of Quinn.

When it came to Quinn, Kurt was either a better actor than he gave himself credit for, or Quinn was too head over heels to notice anything besides her budding relationship. Blaine, the actual physical Blaine, became a more consistent presence in the weeks following the Cheerios championship. He accompanied Quinn dutifully on her shopping trips with Kurt, Santana, and Brittany. He joined them all for movies and brunch and gossip sessions at Brittany's. Kurt had anticipated Santana lashing out at Blaine's becoming the fifth member of their clique, the way she always did when Quinn's boyfriends got too comfortable with her, but the lashing never came. In fact, Santana was more enamored with Blaine than anyone could have ever predicted. Despite their rocky start, something had shifted between the two. Blaine had even started giving her rides to her appointments with her plastic surgeon in Westerville. Spending more than twenty minutes in a locked vehicle with Santana Lopez was something only the bravest of men could endure.

Brittany, the easiest to please of the group, wasn't put off by Blaine's increased presence either. She happily welcomed Blaine with open arms and an offering of lemon squares. Blaine shyly informed her that he was allergic to lemons, to which Brittany gasped in surprise. She grilled him on whether he had any other allergies, and the next time they'd all gathered in her basement she'd prepared a batch of brownies instead of her signature lemon squares.

"They're super safe, I triple checked," she had said with a grin, handing Blaine the prime center cut piece.

The only person who minded Blaine's presence, as it turned out, was Kurt. It wasn't that he actually minded Blaine himself. He was funny, and kind, and knew how to effortlessly diffuse situations when things got heated. The problem was that the longer Blaine hung around, the more Kurt began to like him. Not like like him, Kurt reminded himself. Well… maybe he like liked Blaine just a tiny bit.

In Kurt's defense, it was impossible not to like Blaine. He was the most charismatic person Kurt had ever met, and he was the type of handsome that Kurt didn't think could exist in a place like Lima, Ohio. Kurt had done his best to keep a friendly distance from Blaine, but Blaine always managed to sneak up on him the moment his guard was down.

"I love that brooch, it really brings out the blue in your eyes," Blaine commented as he passed Kurt in the bathroom at brunch one afternoon.

"I grabbed these for you last week while I was visiting my grandparents in Columbus. You said they don't sell them around here," Blaine said as he handed Kurt a box of chocolate truffles that he'd mentioned in passing when discussing comfort foods over pizza two weeks ago.

"He must be insane then," Blaine said during a game of Fuck, Marry, Kill, in which Kurt had to begrugingly kill off Jude Law, reasoning that someone like him would never give someone like Kurt a second look.

Try as he might, the only reason Kurt could find to dislike Blaine was that he was too perfect. He was too handsome, and charming, and delightful, and his lips were too soft, and it was completely and totally unfair that he was such an amazing kisser and that Kurt had been cursed with that kind of knowledge.

Perhaps it was the summer, Kurt told himself. He had been deprived of social and romantic interactions for three months due to Sue's rigorous Cheerio's training schedule, Once school started back up again in just a few short weeks he would be back to his usual self — confident, self-assured, and not weighed down by thoughts about his best friend's boyfriend.

Quinn, on the other hand, openly dreaded the approaching school year. The few times Blaine wasn't around she waxed poetically about their time together, blushing as she shared the intimate details of what she and Blaine got up to whenever her parents were out of the house. Not surprisingly, Quinn painted Blaine as a generous lover — a fact that did nothing to quell Kurt's vivid dreams.

"I'm just worried that with school and the Cheerio's, and Blaine's football practices that we won't have any time for each other," Quinn said, biting her lip nervously before turning to her friends for their guidance.

"Oh please, if Anderson goes a day without slapping a wet one on your cheek he'll deflate like a balloon," Santana reassured easily. She was right, Blaine almost always had a hand on Quinn's arm or waist, waiting for the perfect moment to place a sweet kiss to her cheek or her forehead.

Despite Santana's reassurance, Quinn still had her worries. It wasn't a secret that she didn't have the best track record when it came to romance. In the moment, Kurt hesitantly offered the one thing he knew would cheer Quinn up: the promise of a party. His dad was heading out of town for the weekend for the first time in what felt like years, and Kurt had yet to get much enjoyment out of their newly installed in-ground pool. Quinn jumped at the idea, Santana and Brittany quickly joining in as they brainstormed guest lists, themes, and specialty cocktail recipes.

Which was how Kurt found himself in his current predicament: tipsy on shitty sangria in his backyard, surrounded by people he barely knew, doing his best not to ogle at a very shirtless, and very, very hot Blaine Anderson.

What Kurt had originally pitched as an exclusive, intimate affair had blown out of proportion too quickly for Kurt to get a grasp on things before they got out of control. Santana had made a passing comment about the party to Puck, who then took the liberty of inviting the rest of the football team, the hockey team, the swim team, and some girls from the dance team at Mount Carmel.

If it weren't for the shitty sangria Kurt would've been in the throes of a full on meltdown, but the pleasant buzz thankfully kept his worries at bay. Thoughts of frantically cleaning his trashed back yard the following day before his dad would arrive were neatly stored and compartmentalized in the 'Sober Kurt' section of his brain. The downside of his buzz was that Kurt's inhibitions decided to lock themselves in the same sober part of his brain where his worries had been laid to rest. He had always been careful to not let his eyes linger too long on Blaine, not wanting to arouse any suspicion from Quinn or Blaine himself. But when Blaine had arrived with a well past tipsy Quinn in tow, and quickly rid himself of his polo so he could jump into the pool to join his friends, Kurt had instantly felt himself go weak in the knees. Many of the football players had sculpted muscles and well defined chests, but Blaine was like a Greek God among mortals. His skin, olive toned and glistening in the afternoon summer sun, radiated strength, but not obnoxiously so like his fellow muscular teammates. Kurt's eyes travelled along the prominent V of Blaine's hipbones down to the dark smattering of hair that trailed just below his swim trunks and felt his mouth begin to water. His eyes shifted up, following one of the veins in Blaine's arm, practically groaning as his mind flooded with thoughts of Blaine lifting him up high into the air as though he weighed nothing at all.

Kurt's own physique is nothing to scoff at. His years with the Cheerio's had done his body more than good. The baby fat that had once clung to his cheeks and hips had melted away within months of his joining the squad, replaced by lean muscle and sharp edges. Kurt certainly isn't the type to feel bashful in his own skin, but the sight of Blaine, so perfect and tan and mind blowingly gorgeous, makes him blush as he gazes down at his own too-pale skin. For the sake of his sanity, Kurt takes a seat on one of the chaise lawn chairs off to the side of the pool. He's a safe enough distance away that he can admire the view of Blaine splashing Sam Evans without drawing any attention to himself.

Minutes later Quinn slides into the empty chair beside him, having abandoned her yellow sun dress for a striped bikini that leaves little to the imagination. While the female form does nothing for Kurt, he can't help but notice how perfectly her body, all soft curves and rosy flushed skin, should fit alongside Blaine's.

"So much for our modest affair," she says with a sigh as she shakes her hair out of her ponytail and puts on a pair of cat-eyed black sunglasses.

"You can thank Santana for that. She should know better than to tell Puckerman anything she doesn't want to spread to everyone within a 50 mile radius," he replies with a roll of his eyes.

"I don't mind it. It's kind of nice to see everyone like this one last time before the end of the summer." Quinn has a twinkle in her eyes as she takes in the scene before her — music blaring, bodies grinding, and beer cans falling to the ground at rapid speed.

"Says the one who doesn't have to spend their Sunday morning cleaning their backyard before their dad comes home," Kurt replies bitterly, finishing off the last of his sangria to push away anymore thoughts of the mess he'll have to deal with.

Quinn looks as though she's about to respond when she's suddenly trampled by Blaine, who jumps on her like an over excited puppy. Quinn giggles as he brushes off his mop of damp curls against her shoulder, his body dripping onto her until she's thoroughly drenched. His hands wind around her waist and his face burrows into her side as he places sweet, tickling kisses along the side of her neck. Kurt groans and pushes down his own sunglasses to cover up the annoyance in his eyes as he turns away from the sickeningly sweet pair. Quinn's squeals of delight begin to fade as she manages to bat Blaine away long enough to catch her breath.

"B, you'll help Kurt clean up tomorrow, right?" she says with a raised eyebrow, making it clear that Blaine doesn't have much choice in the matter.

"Sure, whatever you need, Kurt," Blaine replies, turning to Kurt with a wide grin.

Kurt gives him a tight lipped smile in return. While he appreciates the help, he'd prefer if said help was literally anyone else.

"See, now can you stop being a grinch and enjoy your own party for once," Quinn teases, shoving Kurt's arm and swiping his sunglasses off of his face.

Kurt lets out a frustrated growl as he reaches out to grab back his sunglasses, pouting childishly when Quinn makes sure to hold them just out of his reach.

"Have you even been into the pool yet?" Blaine questions, noticing Kurt's dry skin and still perfectly maintained hair.

"My skin doesn't do well with chlorine," Kurt explains without looking at Blaine, sending one last glare Quinn's way before beginning to lift himself out of his chair so he can refill his drink.

"Maybe all you need is a little push to start enjoying yourself," Blaine muses as he turns to look at Quinn. Quinn gives him a knowing look, stifling a giggle as she gives him a mischievous wink.

Kurt freezes as he catches sight of the couple's shared look, quickly catching on to what they're planning. "Oh no, don't you dar—"

Before Kurt can finish his warning, Blaine is up and off of Quinn and hoisting Kurt into the air with unfair ease. Everything is a blur as Kurt lets out a yelp of surprise, barely able to struggle against Blaine's hold before they're plummeting into the deep end of the pool. Water stings Kurt's eyes and floods his throat as he struggles to stop attempting to breath. He flails his arms until his fingers manage to break the surface of the water and find a ledge to hold onto. He pulls himself to the surface and gulps in as much air as he can, his teeth chattering between gulps at the shockingly cold water.

"Not funny, Anderson," Kurt mutters as he wipes at his eyes, a gleefully laughing Blaine having appeared at his side. Kurt groans when he realizes that several others have joined in on laughing at Blaine's stunt, all at Kurt's expense.

"Oh come on, I think your skin will live," Blaine teases, knocking his shoulder against Kurt's.

"I could have drowned," Kurt replies indignantly.

"The pool is eight feet deep, you weren't going to drown."

"What if I didn't know how to swim?" Kurt replies, suddenly insistent on making Blaine feel guilty.

"Then I wouldn't have let you drown," Blaine replies with an easy smile, placing his hand on the small of Kurt's back, as though he's actively preventing him from losing his balance and falling under the water.

Even under the veil of the water Blaine's skin against Kurt's sends a shiver down his spine. His cheeks flare, hopefully not too obviously, as he shifts under Blaine's touch.

"Fine, but you'll pay for this. Just wait." Kurt mutters his half hearted threat under his breath before lifting himself out of the pool, making a beeline for the stack of towels on the other side of the yard.

"I'll be waiting," Blaine calls out, Kurt scowling as he glances over his shoulder, annoyed by the smug grin on Blaine's face.

At the very least the pool incident had cooled Kurt's raging desire for all things Blaine. Behaving like a golden retriever off its leash is not an attractive quality. Once toweled off, Kurt kept himself occupied on the opposite side of the party. He indulges in a third, and surprisingly a fourth, sangria to clear his mind once more. He dances with Santana and Brittany long enough to forget that he had been angry moments earlier. He's careful as he swings his hips to the beat of the song he doesn't recognize — it would be so easy to let his buzz take over him and send him toppling over himself to the soft grass. Brittany trips over herself several times, happily falling into Santana's open arms with giggles and smiles.

At first Kurt doesn't notice that Quinn has suddenly appeared in their tightly packed dance circle. At first she's alone, happily moving to the music with her eyes closed. Kurt keeps a cautious eye on her, not trusting that she's gotten all the hijinks out of her system. He tenses when Blaine suddenly appears at her side, hand on her waist and eyes fixed on her lips. They kiss slowly, bodies coming closer together, but not quite grinding against one another — they're still keeping to their own rhythms. Kurt's far too buzzed to care about the display of affection, but does find it in him to come up with a plan for a bit of revenge. He escapes the dance circle briefly to refill his cup, returning before anyone can notice that he was missing. He carefully dances his way through the crowd until he's right beside Quinn and Blaine. They're too wrapped up in one another to notice Kurt's presence, Kurt grinning wickedly as he takes one last final step towards them. As if on cue, their lips pull apart for a moment of breath just as Kurt allows himself to stumble forward, his drink flying over the rim of his cup and splashing onto their too-close bodies.

"Oops," Kurt says with an impish grin as the two gasp in surprise, discarding his now empty cup on the ground without a care.

Quinn glares at her best friend, her delicate fingers clenching into fists.

"Not funny, Kurt," she spits out.

"That's really funny actually, because I remember saying the same thing when I got thrown into a pool against my will."

Blaine is biting back a smile at Kurt's response, not minding the payback all that much despite getting the majority of the drink spilled on himself. Quinn turns her attention back to Blaine, frowning as she runs a finger along his now soaked chest.

"Ugh, B, you need a shower." She removes her finger and grimaces at the sticky sweet drink covering her boyfriend's chest and arms. "Kurt, show him where your bathroom is," Quinn commands.

Kurt toys with the idea of saying no to Quinn's command, but he's in hot enough water already. He had his fun, he might as well play by Quinn's rules for the rest of the night. Kurt crosses his arms over his chest and with a roll of his eyes gestures for Blaine to follow him. Blaine gives Quinn a parting kiss on the cheek before following closely behind Kurt into the house. They remain silent as Kurt guides them down to the basement, unlocking the door to his room and guiding him to the en-suite bathroom. Blaine's eyes quickly take in Kurt's immaculately clean room, admiring the tasteful decor. He stops for a moment to admire a photo of a young Kurt on the desk, only for Kurt to clear his throat.

"Last I checked this wasn't a private tour of my room," he says dryly.

Blaine flushes and steps away from the photo, following Kurt into the bathroom. Blaine leans against the sink as Kurt explains how the shower works, walking him through which shampoos and conditioners are off limits when Blaine suddenly cuts him off.

"You don't like me," he says so matter of factly it takes Kurt a second to process what he's just said.

Kurt is taken aback, brow furrowing as he crosses his arms against the accusation. "And where did you get that idea from?" he replies, unsure what made Blaine decide to bring this up now of all times.

Blaine shrugs. "You always walk away when I try to talk to you. Or make someone else join the conversation. Or pretend you didn't hear me."

Kurt swallows hard. Apparently his attempts to divert Blaine's attention away from him over the passing weeks hadn't been as subtle as he'd hoped.

"Well, maybe I don't like you," Kurt answers. He knows it isn't true, but he's not sure what else there is he can say without giving all of the power over to Blaine. Kurt prefers to be in command of all of his conversations, and this one is no exception.

"Here's the thing — I don't think that's true," Blaine muses with a smile that Kurt finds impossible to read.

"Then why did you bring this up in the first place?" Kurt is beginning to lose his composure. He has no idea what it is that Blaine wants from him, and being in such a confined space with him is making his cheeks warm.

"Because… I see you, looking at me. You always look away before I can catch you, but I know you've been looking. I can feel your eyes on me."

Blaine steps away from the sink, closing some of the distance between himself and Kurt. He stumbles slightly as he steps forward, Kurt realizing that Blaine had likely indulged in another drink too.

"I'm not… I don't look at you," Kurt replies meekly, his heart pounding as Blaine stops mere inches away from him. He considers pushing Blaine away, but can't find it in him to break the connection as their eyes suddenly meet.

"It's okay… I look at you too," Blaine confesses. Kurt can feel his breath, warm and tinged with notes of strawberry sangria, against his suddenly dry lips.

Kurt's tongue glides along his lower lip, Blaine's eyes finally breaking away from Kurt's as he watches, entranced by Kurt's lips. Kurt's heart is beating so loudly he's sure Blaine can hear it begging to pound right out of his chest. Blaine's hand begins to reach towards him and Kurt worries that the moment it touches his skin his knees will give in. Blaine's warm palm reaches Kurt's hip and he miraculously doesn't fall apart. He holds his ground as his skin ignites beneath Blaine's gentle touch. In seconds his skin becomes too warm as it flushes pink under Blaine's gaze. Blaine's eyes travel from where his palm rests on Kurt's hip up his pale chest and rest on the smattering of freckles that dance along the stretch of skin from Kurt's collarbone to just below his jaw. When his eyes finally meet Kurt's once more it feels as though they're moments from combustion.

And then their lips meet. It's the explosion they're both waiting for — colors blooming behind their closed eyelids as their bodies shiver at the much needed contact. Their bare chests press flush together as Kurt moves in to meet Blaine's lips. Blaine's free hand cups the side of Kurt's jaw, holding him steady as their lips move against one another. Kurt's hands, finally receiving the permission they needed, explore the expanse of Blaine's skin — fingertips trailing along the plane of his chest over and down the expanse of his back. His palms settle on Blaine's shoulders, marveling at the way the skin stretches tight over the muscle as Blaine shifts to pull Kurt in closer to him.

It's like their first kiss at the party weeks earlier, only thousands of times better. Their lips still slot together in that perfect way that had left Kurt craving for more, but their hands are warm and eager to touch everything they can. When Blaine's fingertips graze just below the waistband of Kurt's swim trunks, dusting just over the curve of his ass, Kurt gasps. Blaine takes this opportunity to break the kiss, Kurt whining at the loss. Blaine's lips move to graze Kurt's neck, pressing feather light kisses higher and higher until he settles on the crook where Blaine's neck blends into jaw, below his ear. His teeth lightly scrape the sensitive skin and Kurt lets out a wanton moan, throwing his head back and ignoring the pain as it collides with the wall behind him. The rational part of his brain begs to be freed, pleads with him to push Blaine away before he leaves a mark that he'll never be able to explain, before someone notices that they've been gone for too long, before things go too far.

Instead, Kurt digs his fingers into the firm skin of Blaine's arm as he lets Blaine kiss and suck at his neck, marveling at how easily Blaine had been able to find the spot that always brings him to pieces. He presses himself as close to Blaine as he can, not caring about the stickiness between them as Blaine's still sangria soaked chest is pressed firm against his own.

And then, just as quickly as it had all began, they come back to reality when they hear a knock at the door.

"B, I found one of your spare shirts in my car," Quinn calls out from the other side of the door.

The two fly to opposite ends of the room at record speed. Blaine pants, struggling to catch his breath as Kurt frantically checks his reflection in the mirror. He confirms that Blaine hadn't managed to leave a mark on his neck and does his best to calm his shaking hands.

"Are you guys alright?" Quinn asks when the silence stretches too long.

"Yeah, sorry, there's a problem with my shower. He'll have to use the one upstairs," Kurt calls back out, taking in a deep breath.

He does his best to compose himself, grateful that things hadn't become heated enough that he had to hide a straining erection in his already revealing swim trunks. He glances quickly at Blaine, the other boy's expression unreadable, before he opens the door for Quinn.

"I'll take him — it's the second door on the left right?" Quinn asks, no hints of suspicion on her face as she steps over to Blaine and loops her fingers through his.

Kurt nods, giving her a weak smile as she tugs Blaine out of the bathroom. He follows them up the stairs, sneaking a look at Blaine out of the corner of his eye. The other boy looks as though he's in a fog as Quinn pulls him in the opposite direction, towards the first floor bathroom. He turns back to look at Kurt, Kurt's skin flushing under his gaze. Once the door closes behind Blaine, Kurt heads straight for the kitchen. He braces himself on the counter, his mind spinning as he struggles to put together what the hell just happened. He reaches for the half empty bottle of wine that's sitting on the counter and takes a drawn out swig from it. It doesn't do anything to clear his mind, but it helps dash the taste of Blaine off of his lips.

After taking in several deep, calming breaths he reaches down to pinch his arm. He winces at the pain as his skin blooms red, realizing he might've pinched with more force than was necessary. It confirms that he's not asleep and trapped in one of his early morning dreams gone wrong. This is real, and he is absolutely fucked.


	4. Chapter 4

It's a small miracle that Kurt is able to avoid Blaine for the remainder of the night. Kurt keeps himself occupied with refilling drinks and jumping from conversations on one end of the yard to the other. He only catches a glimpse or two of Blaine when he re-emerges from the house with Quinn, freshly showered and changed into the spare shirt she'd brought for him. He doesn't turn to catch Kurt's eye, another small miracle. Quinn loops her fingers through Blaine's and Kurt feels his stomach clench. He suddenly feels as though he's going to be sick, but tells himself it's just the sangria coming back to bite him. He manages to keep the contents of his stomach calm for the remaining few hours of the party, but the moment the door closes behind the final straggler he wretches into the kitchen sink.

His backyard is completely trashed, his stomach is in knots, and his lips can still remember the taste and shape of Blaine. He's tempted to take another swig of whatever alcohol is left in the vain hope that it might help him forget that night. He reaches for a half empty bottle of vodka, but decides against it. As wonderful as it would be to forget everything and not have to deal with the repercussions of his actions in the morning, he knows forcing himself to black out isn't the answer.

By the time he stumbles up to his bed it's well past 3 in the morning. He buries himself under the covers and begrudgingly sets an alarm for 8am. His dad had said he'd be back by noon, and Kurt would need as much time as possible to erase all of the evidence of the night. He replies to texts from Brittany and Santana, thanking him for hosting their debaucherous evening. He frowns as he skims a text from Quinn, confirming that she'd gotten home safely and apologizing on her and Blaine's behalf for tossing him into the pool. He stares blankly at the screen as his mind rushes to come up with an appropriate response, but all he can come up with is 'no problem, by the way I made out with your boyfriend in the bathroom' — which, while true, is certainly not the right answer.

Instead he goes with "no problem, see you on Monday" and sends it off before he can overthink anymore than he already has. He briefly considers reaching out to Blaine, only to realize he doesn't even have Blaine's phone number. He groans before shoving his phone under a pillow — out of sight, out of mind — and finally allows himself to fall asleep.

* * *

There's never been an alarm as shrill and unwelcome as the one that jolts Kurt awake after barely four hours of sleep. He's thankful that he'd at least been spared the agony of yet another dream of Blaine and his wandering hands. The last thing he needs is a hard on while cleaning up red solo cups and other questionable containers. His bones ache in protest and his head pounds as he pulls himself up and throws on a pair of sweatpants and a worn t-shirt. He doesn't bother with his morning skin routine or even brushing his teeth, intending to go right back to bed as soon as the house is back to a respectable state.

He starts with the backyard. Most of the mess has thankfully been contained to the perimeter around the pool, but once he sees the extent of the mess with clear and sober eyes he can't help letting out a drawn out groan. He doesn't give himself the luxury of music as he begins grabbing trash and tossing it into a large trash bag, figuring that if he's left alone with his thoughts he'll work faster. Miraculously he doesn't dwell on the nights events as he cleans at record speed. He knows the minute he lets his thoughts drift to the feeling of Blaine's lips sucking on his neck he won't be able to focus on anything but recapturing every detail of it.

He's nearly halfway done with the backyard when he's snapped out of his zone by the doorbell. Kurt nearly jumps out of his skin at the sound, his heart pounding and knees weak as he drops the trash bag in his hands. Was his dad back early? No, it couldn't be… he wouldn't need to ring the bell, he could just let himself in. But what if he had forgotten his keys? Kurt's breath races as he takes a hesitant step towards the door. He does his best to make out the silhouette behind the frosted glass. The person is definitely male, but doesn't seem quite tall enough to be his dad. When Kurt finally opens the door to find Blaine standing on his doorstep he almost wishes it had been his dad instead.

"What're you doing here?" Kurt asks in lieu of a greeting, doing his best to ignore how the grey sweatpants Blaine is wearing leaves very little to the imagination.

"I said I'd help you clean up, remember?" he says with a raised eyebrow.

"You really don't have to do that." Kurt goes to close the front door, not caring if he's rude, only for Blaine to slide into the house at the very last second.

"Well apparently I do. Quinn called me this morning and wouldn't hang up until I promised her I was on my way over here."

Kurt's stomach sinks at the mention of Quinn. Guilt rises up in his throat like bile — all of the thoughts he'd been doing his best to suppress bursting forth all at once. All he can see is Quinn, his best friend, the one person he'd found in this awful town that he could genuinely trust, smiling up at her once perfect boyfriend. Quinn was nothing but kind to him, taking him under her wing and protecting him from social ostracism, a guardian angel if Kurt had ever seen one.

"You look like you're going to be sick," Blaine observes warily, taking a cautious step away from him.

"And you're not?" Kurt spits out, pushing past Blaine to stomp into the kitchen and brace himself against the sink, just in case his body decides it does want to be sick.

"I'm very good at handling my alcohol," he says with a smile, Kurt gobsmacked at the other boys reaction. How could he actually have the audacity to make a joke right now?

"I'm not talking about alcohol, idiot." It's meaner than Kurt intends, or maybe not. He's not sure if he's mad at Blaine or mad at himself.

"Harsh," Blaine replies as he slides up beside Kurt, giving him a once over before placing a supportive hand on his back.

Kurt recoils instantly at the touch, shifting out of Blaine's reach. "How are you so calm? Or did you forget that you cheated on your girlfriend last night," he asks, his voice barely louder than a whisper, as though Quinn will be able to hear him from miles away.

Blaine crosses his arms and leans against the counter. For once it looks as though there's a chink in his perfect armor. He's not nearly as vulnerable as Kurt is, he at least doesn't have to deal with a raging hangover, but he's not his usual calm, cool and confident. For a moment he looks as afraid as Kurt, but just for a moment. As soon as Kurt blinks the fear is gone, and Blaine has put on a brave face once more.

"I'd prefer not to think about it that way," he answers diplomatically.

Kurt scoffs, resisting the urge to burst into a fit of hysterical laughter. "Okay, great. Then what would you call making out with me, someone who is not Quinn, your girlfriend?"

Blaine winces at Kurt's tone, another chink stripped away. He sighs and runs a hand through his loose, slightly damp curls. "I feel like… I don't know how to control myself around you," he admits in a manner Kurt would describe as almost shy, like a child confessing their bad deeds to their parent. He knows he's wrong and Kurt wonders if he feels ashamed.

"What?" Kurt replies, half convinced he'd misheard what Blaine had said.

Blaine takes his time responding, opening his mouth and shaking his head and starting all over again. He does this several times before he notices the impatient look Kurt gives him and groans.

"I say things to you that I know I shouldn't say. I look at you for too long, and sometimes when I'm with Quinn I wonder what it would be like if you were..."

He trails off, but Kurt doesn't need him to finish, he understands because he's been living through the same thing. He flushes at the realization that those moments he had spent wondering what it would be like to have Blaine pressed hot against him that Blaine had been thinking about him too.

"Are you usually… attracted to men?" Kurt asks nervously, not sure how to handle such a delicate subject.

"I don't know," Blaine answers faster than Kurt had anticipated.

It's not a particularly helpful answer. Kurt takes a moment to absorb all of this newfound information, desperately wishing that his head would stop spinning for one goddamn minute so he can figure out a way to handle this mess. There's a boy that he's extremely attracted to, who happens to be his best friend's boyfriend, standing in his kitchen. Which is trashed, and he still needs to clean before his dad gets home in approximately two hours. He's hungover as hell, possibly more so than he's ever been in his life. And most importantly, said boy has just admitted that he thinks about Kurt when he has sex with his girlfriend, the thought of which should nauseate Kurt, but has instead made him absurdly and annoyingly aroused.

"Why me?" Kurt asks when he finally finds the courage to speak again.

"You're not like everyone else here," Blaine replies with ease, as though this is something he's already asked himself.

Kurt blushes in spite of himself. He should be angry or repulsed by Blaine, but he's just so fucking charming that he still manages to make Kurt weak in the knees just by looking at him. Blaine takes a step towards him and Kurt considers moving, but doesn't. He allows Blaine to crowd his space, the urge to be sick fading away as Blaine settles beside him.

"You're pretty strange yourself," Kurt murmurs, surprised when Blaine laughs.

"Good strange?" he asks with a smile, nudging his shoulder against Kurt's.

Kurt finally looks up at Blaine and allows their eyes to meet. He half hopes that Blaine's eyes will betray him and he'll be able to easily see through him, see that he's just saying what Kurt wants to hear. But his eyes are as sincere can be.

"Good strange," Kurt confirms, not resisting when Blaine reaches out to touch him again.

Instead, Kurt meets the touch halfway, stepping forward and leaning in to the warmth of Blaine's arm around his waist. In seconds they're kissing again — not hard and fast and sloppy like last night, but slow and tender. They take their time figuring out what works, not feeling as desperate for more, more, more the way they had before. Kurt's arms trail along Blaine's back before settling around his neck, his fingers entangling in the curls at the base of Blaine's neck. Blaine's arms hold firm around Kurt's waist, his thumbs skimming beneath Kurt's shirt to dig his thumbs into the dimples at the base of Kurt's spine. It goes on for what feels like hours. Kurt keeps waiting for the pin to drop — for someone to come knocking and disturb their peace, or for his blood to stop pounding hard and fast in his ears, begging for as much of Blaine as he has to offer.

They only stop because they have to. They suck in desperate gulps of breath with their clammy foreheads pressed to one another. Their breath intermingles in the space between them, their lips kiss swollen and humming. Kurt should care that he hasn't brushed his teeth yet or that he's wearing an outfit he usually wouldn't be caught dead in, but all he cares about is taking in as much air as he can so he can kiss Blaine again and again and again. Blaine proves to be on the same page, pushing Kurt against the kitchen counter as he leans in to kiss him.

The counter digs roughly into his back, and a knob is pressing uncomfortably into his ass but he can't find it within himself to care. As though he's read Kurt's mind, Blaine's palms glide down past Kurt's ass to settle on the backs of his thighs. Just like before, Kurt is hoisted into the air and onto the counter before he can even realize what's happening. His knees are pushed apart as Blaine settles in between his legs, taking Kurt's hips and shifting him as close as he can. It's not nearly as intimate as some of the things Kurt has done with other men but it is by far the hottest. He has to lean forward slightly to reach Blaine's lips, he and Blaine's height difference exaggerated by his place atop the counter. He can't help but smirk against Blaine's lips — Blaine may have him beat when it comes to strength, but at least Kurt will always have height.

When they break for air for a third time Blaine's lips travel to the same spot as the previous night, quickly picking up where he'd left off. He presses his tongue flat and hard against the sensitive skin of Kurt's neck and it takes all of Kurt's willpower not to shamelessly grind himself against Blaine's stomach. In the moment he's actually grateful for his hangover — had this been any other morning he'd most likely be three seconds away from cumming in his pants just from a single brush of Blaine's fingertips.

All Kurt can hear is the wet smack of Blaine's lips and teeth against his skin and his own shameless moans, until he hears the not too distant sound of a car. His heart drops to his stomach and his body goes stiff.

"You alright?" Blaine mumbles, lips tickling Kurt's adams apple.

Kurt strains his ears. He hears a set of car doors closing, followed by his neighbor, Angela's, signature shrill laugh. He breathes a sigh of relief — his dad isn't home just yet, but the brief scare is like a bucket of ice water.

"We should stop. My dad's going to be home soon and this place still looks like a bomb went off." Blaine looks as though he's going to protest until Kurt presses his index finger against Blaine's lips. "I'm serious, you stay on this side of the room and I'll stay on my side. I can and will bite you if you come anywhere near me before we're done."

Blaine chuckles against Kurt's finger. He steals one last kiss as Kurt slides off of the counter, yelping when Kurt bites down lightly on his bottom lip in warning. His eyes twinkle with admiration and arousal as he watches Kurt determinedly march to the opposite side of the room.

Kurt hates that his guilt has practically disappeared. It's embarrassing, really — he makes out with a cute boy and his brain short circuits, he prides himself on being a more high functioning individual than that. He decides to focus on cleaning as fast as he can instead of exerting anymore mental energy trying to make himself feel bad. He can feel Blaine's eyes on him as he moves around the room, giving the other boy a warning glare when he feels his eyes boring into him when he bends over to pick up a plastic cup beneath the coffee table.

Kurt is able to keep his eyes and hands to himself, thank you very much. That is until he and Blaine join forces to clean beneath the couch and their hands brush for all of a second. The touch is electric and before either of them can even blink they're on each other as if bound by magnetic pull. They've abandoned their slow and steady pace for frantic and desperate, but with a bit more coordination than their buzzed kisses the previous night. They collapse in a pile of limbs on the couch, shifting awkwardly to keep their lips on one another at all times while trying to find a comfortable position. Kurt accidentally knees Blaine's hip and Blaine's elbow jabs Kurt's stomach but they figure things out before anyone gets too seriously injured. Blaine winds up straddling Kurt's hips, his palms sliding up and under Kurt's t-shirt and exploring his bare skin as Kurt's own hands run along Blaine's muscled thighs. Kurt's fingers twitch as they reach the top of Blaine's thigh, playing at the waistband of his sweatpants. Blaine lets out a moan of encouragement against Kurt's lips — and Kurt is back to reality once again.

"Goddammit — no, no, we need to finish. Seriously," Kurt says as sternly as he can as he pushes Blaine up and off of him.

He readjusts his own shirt, letting out a drawn out sigh as he picks his abandoned trash bag back up and heads towards the backyard. Blaine, still kiss dazed, takes a few more seconds to catch up. He blushes as he does his best to discreetly readjust his sweatpants before following Kurt to the backyard.

"Oh no. You stay over there," Kurt orders as Blaine approaches behind him, placing a firm palm against his chest and pushing Blaine back through the sliding door.

"You don't trust me to stand 10 feet away from you?" Blaine says with a chuckle.

"You haven't given me any reason to trust you," he replies with narrowed eyes.

Blaine holds his hands up in surrender with a smile that's so charming and sweet it makes Kurt want to scream. Blaine returns to the safety of the living room and busies himself with wiping down the counters and dining room table.

Kurt uses his brief moment of solace to scold himself for losing his control so easily. He's Kurt **fucking** Hummel, he does **not** let people like Blaine Anderson turn him to putty in his very… strong and very capable hands. Kurt crushes a beer can in his fist and throws it into the trash bag so roughly it tears a rip right through the cheap plastic.

Kurt grabs a fresh bag while he mutters a series of profanities under his breath, nearly ripping the new bag in half as he unfurls it with far more force than is necessary. Blaine gives him a questioning look from his place in the kitchen, debating whether to come to Kurt's aid, but decides against it when Kurt gives him a very menacing warning look.

"We can't do this again," Kurt calls out to Blaine as he steps back into the living room, the backyard now thoroughly free of any evidence of the party.

"Clean your house at 8 in the morning? I agree," Blaine replies with a cheeky grin.

"Don't be a smart ass," Kurt warns. "This — whatever this is — isn't happening again. And you need to tell Quinn. ASAP."

Blaine stiffens at the mention of Quinn, averting his eyes away from Kurt. He bites his lip, sighing before he speaks up again, so quiet Kurt can barely hear him. "I'm going to tell her, I promise, I just… I can't tell her right now."

Kurt's anger is back in full force at Blaine's meek reply. "And why not?"

"Things are still new for us and—"

"But not new enough for you to not cheat on her," Kurt interrupts.

"Kurt, that's not fair." Blaine's voice is stern, his eyes no longer downtrodden and shameful, focusing his attention back on Kurt.

"Nothing about this situation is fair."

At first, Blaine says nothing. Kurt's vice grip on the last abandoned beer bottle from the backyard slackens. He throws it into the bag and the sound of it colliding with the rest of the garbage echoes in the space between them. It's uncomfortable — those few seconds of silence giving them time for their consciences to catch up with them. The underlying sexual tension, the building arousal, is gone. All that's left is the remains of what they've done.

"Quinn and I… our families have known each other for a long time," Blaine finally says, several minutes later. His eyes are on the floor, on his hands, on the counter, anywhere but on Kurt. "We hadn't spoken in years, so when I got to McKinley our parents wanted us to reconnect. She's the one who got me to try out for the football team, actually… She was amazing — _is_ amazing. She was going through a lot at the time. She'd just gone through this huge break up and she was dealing with a lot of pressure from her parents and… I don't know. Things just happened. She was looking for something to fill this new void she had in her life, and I had my own things I was… dealing with. It just made sense."

Kurt remains silent, completely stunned by Blaine's version of the origin of his and Quinn's relationship. Quinn had painted her relationship with Blaine as an explosion of wit and passion. Yes, she'd said they'd known each other through their parents — but hadn't mentioned their parents orchestrating their reconnection. She said she'd run into Blaine after Cheerio's practice one afternoon, dazzled by how handsome and mature Blaine had become since they'd last seen each other in middle school. They planned to meet up at her place to catch up — where they spent the evening reminiscing and quoting Shakespearean sonnets in between tentative kisses. Which, now that Kurt thought about it again, did sound like something stripped right out of a Nicholas Sparks novel. While he knew Quinn was the type to embellish, he had to give her the benefit of the doubt.

"That's not the story Quinn told us."

Blaine shrugs, running a hand through his hair. "I told her she could tell people whatever she wanted. It's not a very exciting story, and she has a certain 'image' to maintain."

"So… you two are what? Pretending to date one another? In an open relationship?" Kurt probes, his anger finally beginning to subside.

Blaine shrugs again. "We're what we both need. Whatever that might mean."

It's not the answer Kurt wants — it's not even an answer Kurt's sure he understands. Quinn is his best friend — he'd held her while she cried when she went through her first break up with Finn, and had driven to her house at 2 in the morning to console her again when they broke up for the second, and seemingly final, time. She answered every one of his calls on the first ring, and was always there for him when it came to fights with his dad, even when she knew that he was in the wrong. They never kept any secrets from each other — and now, there was Blaine. A secret Quinn had kept from Kurt, and now a secret Kurt kept from Quinn.

"Kurt, I promise you I will tell her, but just not right now. What she needs right now is someone beside her and… a-and I care too much about her to let her down," he confesses with such sincerity it makes Kurt's heart melt.

"Then why did you kiss me? If you knew that Quinn needed you?"

"Why did you kiss back — if you're Quinn's best friend?"

Kurt's lips part but he can't find the right words. Blaine's response is harsh but his tone is so honest and vulnerable it heals the cuts his words leave behind. It's with a shiver that Kurt realizes that Blaine, so true and open in everything he says, is the type of person who can very easily convince someone to do anything he says. Even when he's reminding Kurt of his own faults in the mess they've found themselves in he doesn't speak with malice — he's still so gentle and kind that for a second Kurt actually feels guilty for putting more of the blame on Blaine than himself.

"Fine. But if you keep putting it off I won't hesitate to tell her myself." Blaine gives Kurt a shy smile in thanks. "And this seriously cannot happen again. I'm not going to be the Maria Reynolds to you and Quinn's Alexander and Eliza," Kurt adds with a wave of his hand as he begins to gather up all of the trash bags to bring out to the curb.

"Fair enough. I don't see you turning down the opportunity to be the Angelica to my Hamilton though," Blaine adds with a wink.

Kurt nearly drops the bag in his hand. He couldn't honestly remember the last time someone had actually understood one of his musical theatre references. "Hold on — are you a history nerd or a musical theatre nerd?" Kurt asks with a wary eye.

"Bit of both. My parents took me to see Hamilton when the tour stopped in Cleveland. Show tunes are my guilty pleasure," he confesses with a bashful shrug.

Kurt nods, remembering all too well how he'd begged his dad for tickets to Hamilton's Ohio tour run for his birthday. He had nearly succeeded in convincing him, only for the idea to be stamped down after a massive falling out when Kurt refused to come home by curfew several weeks in a row.

"I'm impressed," Kurt praises. Blaine beams at the compliment, some of the tension beginning to roll off of his shoulders.

They finish off the last of the clean up — dragging the trash bags to the curb and double checking that they've picked up every can and bottle in comfortable silence. Things are a bit awkward once Kurt confirms that everything is in order, thanking Blaine for his help. The sexual tension that had fanned out during their heated conversation on the subject of guilt and blame slowly creeps back in through the cracks in their composure. Kurt wants to hold fast on the rule he's established — he wants so badly to not want to kiss Blaine again. Blaine is standing in his doorway, looking so sweet and his lips are still kiss swollen and flushed and so, so inviting.

But Kurt has more willpower than he gives himself credit for. Blaine's eyes are on his lips, and it would just take a single step forward and they'd be in each other's space. But instead of taking that step Kurt unlocks the front door, looking at Blaine with a cheeky grin, almost daring him to break their new rule. At least then he would be able to say he wasn't the one to break it first. Blaine doesn't take the bait though, proving that he too has more willpower than Kurt anticipated. His eyes stay on Kurt for as long as possible as he steps out of his house.

"See you on Monday, Kurt," he says before turning away, and it shouldn't sound so sultry, like an unspoken promise, but it does.


	5. Chapter 5

**A/N: Tremendous kudos and thanks to my beta, Adri (somefeministtheatrepls on Tumblr) for her help with this chapter!**

* * *

Kurt grants himself the sweet reprieve of sleep once all is said and done. The house is clean, Blaine is gone, and his guilt has been eased (somewhat). He collapses on the couch in the living room and falls asleep moments later. He sleeps peacefully, still unhaunted by dreams of Blaine, until the front door slams shut. Kurt startles awake, sitting up as his dad steps into the house, giving his son an uneasy look.

"Hi. How's Aunt Lily?" Kurt grumbles out in between yawns, stretching his aching neck muscles.

"She's good. She sends her best," Burt replies, his voice clipped.

Kurt's brow furrows as he watches his dad go through the kitchen cabinets with unnecessarily rapt attention. "Is everything okay?"

Burt turns back to him with a look that sends chills down Kurt's spine. "I told you no guests while I was gone."

Kurt sits up, ramrod straight, doing his best to look calm as he replies. "And I didn't have any guests."

Burt lets out a humorless chuckle. "Kurt, I'm not some stupid old man who you can pull a fast one on."

"I'm serious!" Kurt protests, wincing as he realizes just how unconvincing he sounds.

"Well, if you're so serious then maybe next time you won't leave a month's worth of trash on the curb and will remember to cover up your hickies — which are the size of Texas."

Burt doesn't give Kurt a chance to defend himself. He's had a long drive back to Lima and he's clearly not in the mood for yet another argument with his reckless son. "You're grounded. Three weeks, no going out. You'll come straight back home after school — and if you don't you can tack on another month and lose your laptop while you're at it."

Burt's tone indicates that there's no room for negotiation, no matter how unfair Kurt thinks his punishment is. He nods in resignation, gritting his teeth as he storms back up to his room, making sure to slam the door closed for good measure. He pauses in front of the full length mirror on his bathroom door, leaning in to examine the spot on his neck that Blaine had paid such dutiful attention to. Lo and behold, a bright red bruise that, while not quite the size of Texas, would be impossible not to notice.

"Oh fuck you, Blaine Anderson."

* * *

The last thing Kurt had anticipated having to deal with on his first day of his senior year was struggling to cover up a massive hickey. He sat down at his desk after his argument with his father and grabbed his emergency bottle of concealer, groaning when he saw that it was empty. He cursed the boy he'd hooked up with a handful of times last Spring who could only get himself off if he was biting down on something. Kurt was left so covered in bite marks after each of their encounters that Santana had gifted him the brand new bottle of concealer at lunch one afternoon, begging him to use it liberally and to stop seeing the "cannibal in training."

Kurt attempted to go to the mall to pick up more concealer, but his dad decided that going to the mall would be a violation of his newly instated grounding.

"Fine, so you're just going to let me walk around with this for everyone to see," Kurt protested, gesturing to his neck.

In lieu of a reply Burt tossed his son one of the many, many scarves he kept in the hall closet and a look that made it clear the conversation was over.

The scarf served its purpose for all of ten minutes into the day. Besides the fact that there was no need for a scarf this time of year, accessorizing with one's Cheerio's uniform was frowned upon. Brittany had once been forced to run three sets of laps because she'd decided to wear a headband. Kurt knew he wouldn't be able to wear the scarf to practice after school, but figured he could keep it on throughout the day and save himself just a few hours of embarrassment.

But alas, his girlfriends were smarter than the half-assed scarf defense. He was loading his newly purchased school supplies into his locker when Santana appeared at his side, swiping the scarf off of his neck with a flourish. Kurt's hand immediately flew up to cover his neck, dropping the notebooks in his free hand to the ground and trying to grab back the scarf.

"Give it back, Satan, I don't have time for this today," Kurt commands through gritted teeth.

"My, my, my — color me impressed," Santana praises when Kurt's hand finally drops from his neck to grab the scarf back. "You've finally decided to find yourself a man who doesn't try to chew half of your face off," she says with a smirk, leaning against the row of lockers beside him.

Of course Kurt is not granted reprieve, as Quinn and Brittany suddenly appear at Santana's side, as though summoned by the forces of gossip.

"Well this is certainly scandalous," Quinn muses, pinching Kurt's flushed cheek as he wraps the scarf back around his neck.

"It's a burn mark," Kurt mutters, slamming his locker shut.

He'd had an entire day to come up with a lie as to how he'd wound up with a massive hickey in the 24 hours since they'd last seen him. Putting them off as long as possible was what he determined to be the best route. There's no way they would believe him, but it would buy him some time to throw them off his scent, and hopefully fixate on some new piece of drama before they could ask too many questions.

"Lord Tubbington has given me better excuses than that," Brittany scolds, ignoring the strange looks everyone gives her.

"Does your cat get hickies?" Kurt asks. Brittany opens her mouth to reply but Quinn cuts her off before she can.

"Oh no, you're not changing the subject. So, did you finally redownload Tinder?"

"No, I didn't. I'm single not desperate." Kurt gathers his things off of the floor and begins to make his way to his first class of the day, rolling his eyes when the trio follow along. "Don't you all have somewhere to be?"

"Free period," they answer in eerily perfect unison.

"Well, some of us are here to learn, not spend their day talking about pointless things that may or may not have happened."

It was Santana's turn to roll her eyes. "Since when are you so interested in learning?"

"Since my so-called friends decided they wanted to put investigating my sex life on the agenda for the day," he replies bitterly, now only a few feet away from the door to the classroom.

"Oh c'mon, just give us a name," Quinn pleads, looping her arm through Kurt's and giving him her best sad puppy pout.

"Who're we talking about?" Blaine pipes in, sliding up beside Quinn with a cheerful smile. Kurt does his best not to groan — the boy has truly terrible timing.

"Hummel has a secret friend," Santana sings as she tugs his scarf aside with one of her ruby red claws, Kurt slapping her hand away.

"Ah — that guy from the swim team you met at the party?" Blaine asks with a raised eyebrow.

The girls ooh at the new piece of the story, turning to Kurt with expectant looks. Kurt glares up at Blaine — having no idea what the other boy is trying to do. Kurt had barely spoken to any of the boys from the swim team at the party.

"He seemed really into you," Blaine adds throwing in a discreet wink once he's sure the girls aren't looking.

Kurt's eyebrows shoot up as he finally catches on to Blaine's plan. He nods slowly, crossing his arms as the girls squeal in excitement.

"What's his name?" Brittany asks, shaking Kurt's shoulder to get more answers from him.

"I don't know, I didn't ask," he answers nonchalantly.

"No way. You refused to even go to second base with your last hook up because he wouldn't tell you what kind of shampoo he used," Quinn protests, Santana nodding in agreement.

"That's because I was 90% sure he had dandruff, and I refuse to have anyone with dandruff within 10 feet of me."

The girls give each other knowing looks, preparing for their next round of questions for Kurt, only for Blaine to interject once again.

"Sorry to put an end to this, but Kurt and I have to get to English. I heard Brandeis already gave 3 people detention this morning."

Blaine pries Kurt out of Quinn and Santana's viper grips, putting an arm around him (platonically) and pulling him away. "You can grill him at practice," he calls out as he guides Kurt the rest of the way to their classroom, blowing a kiss to Quinn for good measure.

Blaine pulls his arm back once they reach the safety of the classroom. Kurt smiles shyly as he readjusts his scarf, pulling it tight back over the bruise.

"Thank you for that," Kurt says quietly, ducking his head to avoid Blaine seeing his flushed cheeks.

Blaine shrugs and takes his seat. "It's the least I can do," he says with a smug smile that makes Kurt want to simultaneously punch him and crawl into his lap and kiss him breathless. Kurt settles for sitting in the seat beside him.

* * *

Blaine is surprisingly well behaved within the confines of McKinley's walls. He doesn't make any cheeky side comments or pass him flirty notes in their shared class. He keeps his eyes attentively focused on the front of the room. Kurt, on the other hand, can't help letting his gaze linger on Blaine every once in a while. Mr. Brandeis is to blame, really. Maybe if he wasn't so painfully dull Kurt wouldn't be so entranced by Blaine in his brand new letterman jacket. Since he'd arrived part way through the previous year, he wasn't granted the privilege of a letterman jacket despite being the football team's star player.

Letterman jackets had never been a thing for Kurt before — in fact, he thought they were drab, and made the majority of the meatheads who wore them with pride look like imbeciles. Perhaps he's just a tad biased, but Blaine is able to pull the jacket off in a way that none of the others can. It's perfectly tailored to his slim torso and broad shoulders, hugging his arms so beautifully it looks as though it's been crafted specifically for him.

Despite the temptation, Kurt remains a model student and keeps his daydreams to a minimum. When he feels his mind beginning to wander back to Blaine, so close yet still so far away, he pinches himself. By the end of class his arm is flushed red from multiple pinchings, but his mind is free and clear of any thoughts that aren't about foreshadowing in Beowulf.

Kurt is amazed at how normal things begin to feel by the time lunch rolls around. Quinn and Santana don't relent on their teasing, continuing to torment Kurt with prying questions and jokes at his expense. Brittany, thankfully, moves on to lighter topics, such as the homecoming dance and the return of her web show, Fondue for Two. Santana is eventually worn down, annoyed by Kurt's silence and turning her attention to Brittany instead.

Quinn is the last to crack. Her attention is solely focused on Kurt until half of the football team pulls up to their table. Blaine takes his rightful seat beside Quinn, giving her a sweet kiss on the cheek as she offers him a bite of her pasta. Finn watches the display with a disgruntled look, wincing when Santana lands a swift, yet not very discrete, kick to his shin under the table.

They fall into easy conversation, discussing classes and teachers and groaning about the looming pressures of college applications. It's as though they've picked right back up where they left off last year. Finn still sends wistful looks Quinn's way, Puck still makes inappropriate comments about Santana's breasts (which nearly gets him banned from their table permanently), and Blaine is by Quinn's side, laughing at her jokes and smiling at her stories like the doting boyfriend he is. There are no stolen looks or off-hand comments to Kurt — he and Blaine don't even interact directly for the entirety of their lunch period. For a moment Kurt wonders if this is the way things will always be — so normal he doesn't have to have his guard up. He lets himself revel in the moment — he's finally a senior, he's a part of the social elite, and a cute boy whose name he will not say and will not think about wanted to kiss him. He doesn't dwell on all of the problems with said cute boy, and how things will inevitably come to what might be catastrophic ends for himself and his best friend's relationship. Instead he focuses on the positives, just for a little while.

* * *

The pleasantries of senior year barely last a full day. By eighth period Kurt has more homework than should be legally allowed and has already been lectured by three different teachers about the importance of starting their college applications as soon as possible. Even Cheerio's practice proves more difficult than expected. Coach Sue had caught wind of Mr. Schuester's plans for the Glee Club for the homecoming pep rally at the end of the month, and was determined to bring him down.

"Schuester thinks he can steal our limelight with his limp wristed attempt at sex appeal? Well, we'll show him sex appeal!" Sue shouts into her megaphone at her squad despite being less than five feet away from them. The sound is deafening, but it proves its point.

Sue's pep rally routine is bold, to say the least. Set to Lady Gaga's "Lovegame" the routine has more hip thrusts, squats, and grinding than an amateur porno. Kurt and Quinn exchange wary looks as Sue guides them through the routine for the first time. Sure, the Cheerio's are elite, but even they would look ridiculous grinding on the sticky floor of the McKinley gym.

The football players, who are wrapped up with their own practice on the opposite side of the football field, do little to hide their amusement. Puck makes it a point to wolf whistle every free chance he gets, making sure to give it some extra gusto whenever the girls are bent over. Coach Sue is quickly fed up with Puck's antics and has him sent off to the locker room in a tirade that could terrify even the bravest of men.

"So that looks like it's going to be an… interesting routine," Blaine observes when he comes over to them once their respective practices are finished.

"How is this even legal? Isn't half of the squad under 18?" Kurt whispers to Quinn, glancing at the freshman Cheerio's who are busy stretching their sore limbs.

"Did I bring you onto this team to question my leadership? Disperse minions!" Sue shouts through her megaphone, proving once again that she had the hearing skills of a bat.

Everyone scatters out of fear of Sue's rage, going their own separate ways before Sue can force anyone to run laps or do an extra set of burpees. The Cheerio's group chat is on fire that night — the younglings panicking over the new routine while Quinn and Santana try to soothe their concerns. Yes, Coach Sue is insane. Yes, she's had them do potentially embarrassing routines before. No, they shouldn't be concerned — this isn't nearly as bad as when Sue attempted to fire Brittany out of a cannon during their sophomore year. They collectively hope with crossed fingers that the Glee club will abandon its plans for a 'sexy' singalong for the pep rally once they get wind of what the Cheerio's have planned. There's a chance Sue will be amenable to changing the routine to something less scandalous once there's no longer a threat of competition.

But no such luck. They're able to make it through two weeks of intensive practices and hip thrusting drills before word gets back to Rachel Berry of the Cheerio's plans for the pep rally. Rachel attempts to spy on the Cheerio's during one of their practices the week before the performance from underneath the bleachers, but Sue catches on to her within the first five minutes of practice.

"If you don't get out of my sight in the next five minutes you'll be wearing your tonsils as a necklace, Berry," Sue called out through her megaphone, and Rachel scampered away at top speed.

Alas, the damage is done. Rachel reports her few findings back to the glee club and returns to McKinley the next morning with renewed vigor to show that the glee club will be 'bringing the heat.' She attempts to lead the rest of the club in an overly trite rendition of "Hit Me Baby One More Time" at lunch one afternoon, which ultimately fails when her fellow club members refuse to follow her lead and attempt a convoluted pole dancing routine on one of the pillars in the center of the cafeteria. Santana erupts into full-on hyena cackles at the display, wiping tears out of the corners of her eyes. Quinn is better at keeping her composure, politely laughing behind her hand with perfect princess etiquette. Her smile fades when she catches sight of Finn, seated beside her and completely entranced by the performance. Blaine comes to her rescue, forcing Finn to snap back to reality with a slap on the back.

"I should say I'm surprised he actually fell for such a half assed attempt at sexy, but I'm not," Kurt whispers to Blaine out of the corner of his mouth.

Blaine gives Kurt a forced smile, but no further acknowledgement. Kurt is taken aback when Blaine suddenly picks up his lunch tray and shifts to sit on the opposite side of the table. Was he being too mean? Did Blaine actually think Rachel Berry doing a split on a lunch table was good? He shoots Blaine a questioning look, quickly growing frustrated when Blaine refuses to meet his eyes, keeping his gaze firmly focused on Brittany, who has moved on to her latest story about her cat.

It's not the first time he's been cold to Kurt in the passing weeks. Blaine hadn't responded when Kurt had asked him what he thought of Coach Beiste's new haircut after practice the previous week — Kurt chalked it up to him not asking loudly enough to be heard over the roar of the still ongoing football practice behind them. Kurt had given Blaine a smile in the hallway just two days ago, only for Blaine to suddenly became enraptured by something on his phone. Maybe it had been a text from Quinn, or his mom, or someone else important. Kurt had told himself that there was nothing to worry about — and besides, he had no right to be worried about Blaine not paying any attention to him.

But this — this was clearly an affront. Kurt nervously glanced around him, making sure that no one else noticed the way Blaine had just left him high and dry. He attempts to corner Blaine once lunch ends and they go their separate ways, but he doesn't leave Quinn's side until he's safely arrived at his next class.

Kurt does his best to put Blaine out of his mind — tells himself that he must be overreacting and that Blaine must have some logical reason for avoiding him. Maybe Quinn was becoming suspicious, though she hadn't seemed at all off to Kurt. He tries to focus on more important things — like his intimidatingly large pile of homework, or finding new ways to nurse his sore muscles after Sue ranks up the pressure during their after school practices, yelling herself hoarse about how they need to "destroy" the Glee club at the pep rally.

The hickey on his neck has finally faded, and he has finally begun to put thoughts of Blaine behind him when their English teacher, Mr. Brandeis, decides to throw a wrench into Kurt's progress. In the final minutes of class he hands out the outline for an upcoming presentation that they'll need to work on in pairs. Kurt quickly scans the piece of paper, stifling a groan when he sees his assignment partner scribbled in the corner of the page. Of course. Blaine Anderson.

Kurt turns to Blaine with as cheery a smile as he can muster. He really doesn't want to spend any more time with Blaine than he has to — he's only just managed to evict Blaine from taking up residence in his dreams.

"So, guess we're stuck with one another," Kurt says in what he hopes isn't too biting a tone.

But Blaine doesn't even look at him. He never looks up from his notebook, shoving his things into his bag and standing up while keeping his eyes trained on the ground.

"I'll ask Brandeis if we can swap partners," he says so quickly Kurt barely understands him at first.

"What? I was kidding, haven't you heard of sarcasm?" he snaps, struggling to throw all of his things into his bag and follow after Blaine.

"It's fine, I'll talk to him tomorrow before class," Blaine says and disappears before Kurt can even get up from his desk.

It's the final straw. Kurt storms off to his next class and hardly a word of anything his teacher says gets through to him, he's too busy plotting. He considers asking Quinn for Blaine's number — with the English presentation he now had a reason to ask for it — but decides against it, not wanting to get Quinn involved for obvious reasons. He keeps his eyes peeled for Blaine as he takes the long routes to his remaining classes, fuming in anger by the time he arrives to his classroom without a single sighting. He's not surprised when Blaine doesn't show up at lunch. Coach Beiste wanted him to run some extra drills during his lunch, Quinn explains.

"He's been working so hard for the homecoming game, I hardly ever see him anymore," Quinn laments, picking at her salad halfheartedly.

Santana and Brittany quickly come to her aide, cooing and consoling while Kurt remains consumed by his anger. He's only briefly pulled from his furious trance at Cheerio's practice when he nearly drops Brittany after a basic extension. She's thankfully fine, but rattled by the experience and has to sit out the remainder of practice. Kurt apologizes to her profusely, and being the kind soul she is, she forgives him without hesitation. Coach Sue is less forgiving. She chews Kurt out to the high heavens, shouting at him so intensely his ears are ringing by the time she dismisses him from practice early. The girls shoot him a sympathetic look as he makes his way back to the locker room, but he avoids their gaze as he storms off. Leave it to Blaine Anderson to invade his thoughts yet again.

He groans once he reaches the boys locker room — the room overrun by the football team. Kurt typically has the luxury of getting the locker room to himself, as Cheerio's practice often wraps up long after the football team's practice has ended. He does his best not to draw any attention to himself, but David Karofsky notices him the moment he enters the room.

"What happened Princess Hummel? Did Coach Sue finally kick her highness down a notch?" he jeers, crowding Kurt's space as he attempts to open his locker.

Kurt doesn't dignify Karofsky with a response, he focuses on unlocking his locker. Azimio and a few others join in on Karofsky, throwing half hearted jabs and taunts Kurt's way. Kurt can feel Karofsky's eyes on him, the larger boy standing closer to Kurt than he's comfortable with. He's considering saying something when Sam Evans suddenly appears at Kurt's side.

"Karofsky don't you have anything better to do than stare at cheerleaders? Didn't Coach Beiste say if you fumbled another pass that you're off the team?" he retorts.

Karofsky stumbles over his words as he struggles to come up with a reply. The words don't come to him, so he does what meatheads like him do best — growl menacingly and storm away.

"Thanks," Kurt murmurs to Sam, giving him a weak smile and heading off to the showers before anyone else can notice his unexpected presence.

Kurt spends longer than he usually would in the shower — he doesn't have to race home for once at least. He replays the afternoon's events over and over until he's worked himself into a fresh round of rage. Who does Blaine Anderson think he is — crashing into Kurt's life and turning everything upside down, just to treat him like he doesn't exist? What kind of game was he trying to play — worming his way into Kurt's every thought with his sweet words and soft lips, just to tear him down?

Kurt scrubs at his skin until it's rubbed pink and raw, sensitive to his touch. He only exits the shower when the water begins to run cold, breathing a sigh of relief when he returns to a mercifully empty locker room. He's shrugged on a pair of sweatpants and sweatshirt when the sound of a familiar tune peaks his interest. It's "My Shot" from Hamilton — though the person attempting the fast paced rap isn't doing a very good job, but the tune is unmistakable. Kurt follows the melody, quietly sneaking out of the locker room back towards the shower. He smirks as his suspicions are confirmed by the sight of Blaine, blind to the world, as he scrubs shampoo into his air and struggles to take breaths in between rap verses.

"Hey," Kurt calls out, loud enough to be heard over Blaine's rapping.

Blaine freezes at the familiar voice, his hands stilling and the next line of the song dying on his lips. He turns to Kurt stiffly, Kurt crossing his arms and smirking triumphantly. He finally has Blaine exactly where he wants him, with nowhere to hide and no one to bail him out.

"H-hi," Blaine chokes out, finally looking Kurt in the eyes for the first time in nearly two weeks, paralyzed by fear.

"Mind explaining to me why you've decided to pretend that I don't exist?" Kurt asks bluntly, cutting right to the chase.

Blaine swallows hard. He busies himself with brushing wet strands of hair from his eyes as he blushes under Kurt's intense gaze. "Do we have to do this here?"

"Well since you've been avoiding me like the plague for the past two weeks, yes, we do have to do this here."

"Kurt, you know I'm not avoiding you," Blaine pleads, his voice quiet and small.

"No Blaine, I don't know that," he snaps back, finally letting his frustration free. "Because you refusing to look me in the eye, talk to me, or be my English partners for fucks sake, sure makes it seem like you're avoiding me."

Blaine glances around them nervously as Kurt's voice gets louder and louder, echoing off the tiled walls. They're still completely alone, and Kurt is prepared to give Blaine a piece of his mind, no matter who may be around to listen.

"If you don't want to be friends with me that's fine, I don't need another friend. But don't you dare stand there and pretend I don't exist, like you're so much better than me."

"Kurt, I didn't—"

"No, you don't get to talk," Kurt snaps before Blaine can continue, pointing a finger at him. "You don't get to treat me like I'm nothing after…" He glances around, ensuring that they're still alone before continuing. "After everything that you said to me that night," he says in a whisper even though he'd confirmed that they were alone.

Blaine is at a loss for words. He stammers and stops several times before he finally gives up on trying to find the right words. He quickly reaches for his towel and covers himself before stepping over to Kurt, Kurt taking a cautious step back from him.

"Kurt, please, I swear that wasn't what I was trying to do," he pleads, and if his voice didn't sound so sad and earnest Kurt would have found the willpower to walk away.

But he doesn't. Kurt remains stoic, feeling a bit lighter now that he finally had the chance to let out the anger he'd been holding in for days. Blaine makes his way over to him, sopping wet and struggling to keep a hold on his towel and not slip on the wet tile — which should make him look ridiculous, but he still manages to look so calm and cool and it is infuriating. Kurt recrosses his arms defensively, his fingernails digging into the skin of his arm as he tries to ignore that Blaine is nearly naked and still as attractive as ever. Sometimes he hates being a teenage boy.

"I know I haven't been fair to you, but I just didn't know what to do and I know it was so, so stupid to just ignore you but... " He trails off, suddenly crestfallen as the weight of his actions finally begin to catch up on him.

"You were feeling guilty about Quinn so you decide to ignore me, very mature," Kurt says with a roll of his eyes, preparing to walk away when Blaine's head snaps back up suddenly.

"That's not… I mean, yes, I do sometimes feel guilty, but that's not what this was about," he explains quickly, stepping closer to Kurt, willing him not to leave just yet.

"What do you mean?" Kurt turns slightly, but not fully to Blaine.

Blaine ducks his head sheepishly, his face flushing bright down to his collarbone. "I… I-I, uh… That routine for the pep rally is… really, reallydistracting… A-and… God, this is so embarrassing," he mumbles, his words muffled as his hand covers his mouth shyly.

Kurt snaps his fingers with impatience. "Let's go, I'm owed my explanation and I don't have all day. I have a grounding to adhere to."

"Every time I look at you I think about that stupid routine and it makes me ridiculously hard," Blaine blurts out all in one breath, his face bright as a tomato as he exhales once he finishes.

Kurt's eyes go wide at Blaine's breathless confession, his own cheeks heating up instantly as a warmth ignites in the pit of his stomach.

"Y-you… think about me? And that… happens?" he asks incredulously. Certainly he doesn't doubt his ability to turn men to a puddle with his dance moves, but there's something about being able to render Blaine so helpless that makes him swell with unexpected arousal.

Blaine nods shyly, still keeping his eyes on the ground. "It's all the grinding and thrusting and… it should be ridiculous, but god it isn't," he says breathlessly, peeking up at Kurt to gauge his reaction.

Kurt's lips remain parted in quiet surprise. This was by far the last thing he'd expected to come out of his confronting Blaine for his suspicious activity, but the narcissist in him can't help but be smug. His body grow warms as Blaine looks up at him with more confidence now that he's confirmed that Kurt isn't furious, as he had been moments ago. Kurt bites his lip, his fingers clenching and unclenching around one another as he struggles to keep them occupied.

"It's pretty ridiculous too," Kurt says with a shy smile, his cheeks still flushed pink.

"It can be both. It is both," Blaine adds, his eyes darkening as Kurt looks up to meet his gaze, biting down on his lip so hard he worries he'll draw blood.

It's unclear how it begins, but once it does it can't be stopped. They're on each other before either of them has a chance to second guess, lips on lips and hands on waists and fingers digging into skin. They kiss as though they're starving for one another, holding each other so close they can barely breathe. They tumble into the still damp shower stall, miraculously keeping their balance. Kurt doesn't give himself any time to feel guilt or shame at giving in so easily because all he can bring himself to care about is getting more and more of Blaine. He doesn't even care that his clothes are now soaked through and sticky from the soap still lingering on Blaine's bare chest and arms.

When they pull apart for air Kurt doesn't hesitate to glide his lips along the sharp edge of Blaine's jaw, making him fall apart in his hands the same way Kurt had so easily before. All he can hear is the sound of his name on Blaine's lips and the beat of his own heart in his ears. Everything is too hot and too wet and never enough. Blaine's fingers are cradling Kurt's neck, bringing him in closer and closer until suddenly they latch too tight. He pulls off of Blaine's neck, but is pushed down roughly before he can protest.

Kurt is shoved down nearly to his knees, catching his balance at the last moment by bracing himself with a hand to the wet shower floor, grimacing and quickly pulling his hand back to himself. He's prepared to tell Blaine off, assuming this is his presumptuous way of signaling to Kurt that he wants to take things to the next level, but the sound of another voice in the room chills him into silence.

"Dude, what're you still doing here, practice ended 30 minutes ago," Mike Chang asks from the other side of the room.

"I-I had to run some extra laps, I just finished up a few minutes ago," Blaine answers convincingly enough.

"Man, Beiste has to take it easy on you, at this rate you're going to be burnt out before we even get to the first game of the season." Blaine nods in agreement, but doesn't say more. "By the way, have you seen my watch? I think I left it behind in here after practice."

"Sorry, I haven't seen it."

Kurt shifts himself into a slightly more comfortable position, gasping quietly when he falls forward slightly, his cheek bumping into Blaine's hip and his face now mere inches from Blaine's very erect cock straining against the thin material of his towel. He flushes at the sight of it, his breath hitching as he struggles to maintain his balance yet again.

"Can you keep an eye out for it? My dad gave it to me for my birthday, and apparently it's kind of a family heirloom, so I'm seriously screwed if he finds out it's missing." Kurt decides in that moment that Mike Chang is the most annoying person on the face of the planet.

"Yeah, totally," Blaine replies, goosebumps appearing along his arms as he can feel Kurt's breath against his hip.

Kurt, being the troublemaker that he is, can't fight back the urge to run his fingertips along Blaine's covered cock — so he does. Blaine's breath hitches and his fingers reach down to curl roughly on Kurt's shoulder, digging hard into the cotton of his sweatshirt. Kurt's fingers slowly trace the length of him, applying more pressure as he reaches the base.

"You okay? You look a little red," Mike asks, Kurt's hand stilling as he realizes Mike's voice sounds closer than before.

"Yup, yeah, just fine. Just… exhausted," Blaine says quickly, his body stiffening beneath Kurt's touch.

"Alright…. Well, text me if you need anything, or you find that watch." Mike's footsteps finally grow distant as Blaine gives him a weak wave goodbye.

Blaine lets out an exaggerated exhale once the door closes behind Mike, all of the tension melting from his body. "You're the worst," he murmurs, his grip on Kurt's shoulder loosening.

"Do you really mean that?" Kurt teases as he slides in front of Blaine, not caring about the wet tile as he shifts onto his knees, peeking up at Blaine with a devious grin as he toys with the edge of Blaine's towel.

"Shit, are you gonna…" Blaine trails off as Kurt runs a hand along his straining cock once more.

"Not if you think I'm the worst," he replies coyly, biting down on his lip.

Blaine is putty in his hands, biting back moans and rolling his eyes at Kurt's teasing. "Fuck, fine. You're the best, amazing, wonderful, whatever you want to hear," he praises in one quick breath.

Kurt beams and swells at the praise, giving Blaine what he wants as he gives his cock one last stroke before undoing the knot on his towel. He does his best not to gasp like a bumbling virgin at the sight of Blaine's cock — but it's hard not to hide his marvel. He's by no means inexperienced, but the cocks of his past had never made his mouth water with want before. He wastes no time stretching his lips around him, moaning around the weight of Blaine on his tongue. Blaine's fingers reach up to entangle in his hair, but Kurt quickly slaps his hand away. He's horny, but not enough to let Blaine ruin his hair.

Blaine's fingers settle along his shoulders instead, digging and clenching around his top. His lips part but he keeps himself from crying out as Kurt sinks down on him, he's still so calm and cool even as he's falling apart under the spell of Kurt's lips. When Kurt wraps his fingers around the base of Blaine's cock and pumps him in time with the drag of his lips, Blaine finally falls apart. He's gripping Kurt so tightly it's almost painful but Kurt doesn't care at all. His own fingers dig into the taut skin of Blaine's hips, leaving bruises in their wake. He moans shamelessly around Blaine's cock in between breaths, and it is the hottest thing he's ever experienced in his life. It doesn't matter that his knees are beginning to ache, or that he's kneeling on the regrettable locker room shower floor — he is completely consumed by the need for more of everything.

Blaine comes with a whimpered cry of Kurt's name, and Kurt's mouth doesn't leave him until he feels him softening against his tongue. He swallows as he pulls off with a sinful pop without any hesitation. It's not something he's done before, and he's, quite frankly, amazed that he enjoys it as much as he does. He peeks up at Blaine once again, wearing that same coy smile that landed them in their current position. Blaine still needs several seconds to regain his composure, his body still flushed and shaking in the aftermath of his orgasm.

"You're going to be the death of me," he mutters, his voice gritty and haggard, before pulling Kurt up by the arm, and kissing him so hard he sees stars.


	6. Chapter 6

Kurt and Blaine kiss on and on for what feels like gloriously long hours until an incessant buzzing in Kurt's pocket forces him to break things off with a groan. It's the alarm he'd set for himself reminding him to head home on time to ensure his dad didn't catch him out past his grounding curfew.

"Shit, I need to get home," Kurt mutters under his breath, putting a hand against Blaine's chest, pushing him back slightly.

"I should probably finish showering and head home too," Blaine mumbles, still in a post-orgasmic daze.

Kurt goes to put his phone back in his pocket, only for Blaine to snatch it out of his hand. Kurt yelps in shock and lunges to try to grab his phone back, but Blaine flips them over and pins Kurt to the shower wall with ease.

"Relax, I'm just giving you my number," he teases, silencing any protests Kurt may have with a kiss so hot and hard it makes him dizzy.

Kurt resigns himself to silence as Blaine breaks the kiss to send himself a text from Kurt's phone, adding himself as a contact for good measure. He returns Kurt's phone with one last parting kiss. Kurt runs his fingertips delicately along the muscles of Blaine's arms and briefly considers damning his grounding to hell just to run his lips over Blaine's neck and chest and arms one last time — but Blaine plays by the rules. He gently pushes Kurt back, his hands resting on Kurt's waist, thumbs circling the exposed skin of his hips.

"If you don't leave now I can't promise I'll let you go without a fight," he teases before releasing his hold on Kurt.

"Maybe I want to see you fight for me not to leave," Kurt coyly replies, amazed at how easy it is to be so openly flirtatious with Blaine. Every line comes so naturally and doesn't feel cheesy the way it has with other boys.

"I'm sure you would, but your dad grounding you for the rest of the semester wouldn't be fair to either of us, now would it?"

Blaine turns Kurt around and gives him a playful smack on the ass, to which Kurt lets out an indignant gasp, before turning the shower back on and turning his attention back to scrubbing the last remnants of shampoo and gel from his hair. Kurt pouts, taking one last look at Blaine before heading back to his locker, grabbing his things, and heading out to his car. He's still achingly hard by the time he gets back home, with plenty of time to spare until his dad will be home. He bolts down the stairs to his room, throwing his bag and shoes carelessly on the ground and flopping onto his bed. He doesn't waste any time sliding his hand beneath the waistband of his sweats — indulging himself in the thoughts and memories of Blaine's body warm and pliant against him, the way his cock had hardened so quickly on his tongue, the way he'd whispered Kurt's name as he came down Kurt's throat. It doesn't take him long to finish himself off — and when he does, it's the hardest he's orgasmed in all of his 18 years.

* * *

Happily sated post-orgasm, Kurt allows himself to indulge in a few more minutes of fantasizing about what might have happened if he didn't have to part from Blaine so soon. He groans at the sound of the doorbell snapping him out of his daydreams. He's tempted to ignore the bell and continue on with his fantasies, but the bell rings for a second, much longer time, so he gets up and pulls on a fresh pair of underwear and shorts. The hairs along his arm stand on end when he opens the door to find Quinn, still in her Cheerio's uniform.

"Thought you could use some cheering up," she says with a sympathetic smile, holding up a pint of Ben & Jerry's.

It takes Kurt several seconds to even remember why he would need cheering up, his eyebrows shooting up as he recalls the incident with Sue from earlier.

"You're an angel," Kurt says in reply, as Quinn steps into the house and loops her arm through his, fully pushing any and all thoughts of Blaine as far to the back of his mind as he can.

Quinn takes her usual seat on the couch while Kurt heads to the kitchen to grab spoons for their ice cream. When he returns to the living room, Quinn is grinning at something on her phone. She giggles as she begins to type and Kurt's stomach twists as he wonders if she's texting Blaine. She quickly tucks away her phone when she picks up on Kurt's presence, accepting her spoon and shifting so Kurt can join her on the couch.

"Everyone's on your side, for the record," Quinn reassures as she cuddles up to Kurt's side, taking the first bite of ice cream.

"I wouldn't blame anyone if they weren't. I made a stupid mistake and could've seriously hurt Brittany." The guilt of the earlier incident at Cheerio's practice, that had been squashed by all things Blaine, comes back in full force.

"We all make stupid mistakes. Remember when Santana kicked me last year?"

Kurt laughs at the memory, remembering all too well how Santana's foot had collided with the side of Quinn's head during an aggressive backflip. It was the week after the annual spring dance and Santana was still stewing over losing the title of Spring Fling Queen to Lauren Zizes, of all people. She was so wrapped up in her own fury she hadn't even noticed when the rest of the squad surrounded Quinn to ensure she was alright, and didn't apologize for the incident for another two days.

"Is everything alright though? You seemed distracted today," Quinn asks, not noticing how Kurt shifts uncomfortably beside her.

"Just…stressed about some stuff with my dad," he says with a shrug.

He hates how easy it feels to lie right to her face. The only other time he'd had to lie to her was when she'd asked if she would look good with bangs — and that had been to spare her feelings. What he hates even more is that the guilt he'd felt the first time he kissed Blaine is gone. He waits for it to consume him, starting from the pit of his stomach and traveling up and up until it feels like he can't breathe until he tells Quinn the truth — but there's nothing. The memory of himself on his knees and Blaine in his mouth is still fire hot vivid in his mind and it kills any remnants of guilt that may have remained.

"You know you can always talk to me when things are tough — you don't have to keep it all to yourself," Quinn offers, taking Kurt's hand in hers and giving it a soft squeeze. She's so perfect — the most kind and wonderful friend one could ask for — and it _aches_.

"I know. It was nothing worth bringing up, I just let it get the best of me."

Quinn accepts Kurt's excuse without question and quickly moves on to lighter topics. She fills him in on what he missed at practice before moving on to the days gossip. Sam Evans had supposedly asked Brittany out for pizza during their shared remedial English class, but all hopes of their date coming to fruition were squashed once Santana got wind of their plans. She threatened to skin Sam like a deer if he so much as laid a finger on Brittany. Sam stopped responding to Brittany's texts, and had kept his head down in the hallway whenever he got the slightest whiff of Santana's perfume.

In between stories about class Quinn occasionally checks her phone, smiling and laughing at whatever it is she's reading before tucking her phone away as discreetly as she can — which is not very discreetly at all. Kurt considers asking her about it — wanting to know what Blaine could be texting her that has her all aflutter, but decides he doesn't trust himself with that knowledge. The thought of knowing makes something that feels like jealousy twist deep in the pit of his stomach — he has no right to feel the way he does, and doesn't want to push the feeling any further.

Once they've run out of stories and gossip, with their ice cream polished off, they decide to catch up on the latest season of The Bachelor. Quinn declares that there's no way she's going to be able to make it through the season premiere sober and manages to puppy dog eyes her way into convincing Kurt to sneak them some wine from the fridge. Kurt rolls his eyes as Quinn claps her hand in triumph as he makes his way to the kitchen. He pours a careful amount of white wine into two glasses, making sure to leave enough that the bottle looks almost untouched, when he feels a buzzing in his pocket. He pulls out his phone, smirking at the text message from his newest contact.

_"Did you make it home in one piece or will you be locked up in a tower for the rest of your days?" _

He can hear Blaine's voice as he reads the message and smiles — understanding why Quinn is reduced to giggles every time she looks at her phone. He notes that Blaine has set his contact name to "B" — no last name or accompanying emojis. It doesn't sting when he recalls that this is Quinn's nickname for him — it feels exciting.

_"Still in one piece, but if my dad finds out I just swiped some of his Chardonnay he may enlist a dragon to keep me from the social world." _

Kurt peeks through the kitchen door to the living room to see Quinn typing away at her phone, paying no mind to the outside world. Kurt sends off one more text to Blaine before pocketing his phone and returning to the living room, wine glasses in hand.

_"And stop texting your girlfriend, we're trying to watch The Bachelor — which, yes, I know, is terrible." _

Quinn cheers with glee at the arrival of her wine, resting her head on Kurt's shoulder as he settles in beside her and they queue up the season premiere. Kurt feels his phone buzz in his pocket but keeps his focus on Quinn and the episode, not wanting to risk her peeking over at his phone. Quinn gushes over Pilot Pete, who is very much not Kurt's type, and vows that the moment she turns 21 that she'll apply to be on the show.

"Obviously you're stunning and everyone who meets you should fall in love with you, but we both know you're better than that," Kurt scolds.

Quinn pouts, but nods reluctantly. "You're right. Who knows, maybe I'll be married to Blaine by then," she says with a laugh.

Kurt can't tell if she's serious or not — Quinn had never mentioned wanting to get married so young, but he wouldn't put it past her. He laughs nervously and quickly changes the subject to critiquing the latest contestant's evening gown. They finish off their small pours of wine before they're even a third of the way through the episode. Their cheeks are warm and they're laughing too easily at every little thing when the front door slams open with a surprising amount of force. Kurt looks up at the entryway and feels his heart skip a beat at the sight of Finn Hudson carrying an armful of groceries into his home.

"What's going on?" Kurt calls out as he bolts up from the couch and makes his way to the front door.

His dad follows closely behind Finn, also carrying several bags of groceries. "Manners, Kurt," he scolds as he struggles to close the front door without any free hands.

"What is Finn doing here?" he snaps, pointing an accusatory finger at Finn, who has completely ignored the commotion in the entryway in favor of making a beeline straight to the kitchen as though he owns the place.

"I told you yesterday that Finn was going to be helping me with some errands today," Burt replies, pushing past Kurt to join Finn in the kitchen.

"You did **not** tell me about this," Kurt insists, folding his arms across his chest.

"I did, but you were too busy looking at your phone to listen." Burt doesn't bother to turn to his son when he speaks, focusing on helping Finn unload the grocery bags.

Finn is halfway through eating one of the bananas from the bags when he finally speaks up. "Oh… hey," he says when he catches sight of Quinn in the living room.

"Hi… You look well, Mr. Hummel," Quinn greets awkwardly, suddenly frozen in place.

"Same to you, Quinn. Will you be joining all of us for dinner?" Burt asks, giving Quinn a cheerful grin.

"All of us?" Kurt asks in shock, glaring at both Finn and his dad.

"Yes, Kurt, all of us. If you had been listening yesterday you'd know that Finn and his mom will be joining us for dinner tonight," Burt mutters, doing an admirable job of keeping his frustration at bay.

Kurt is flabbergasted at this reveal. He swears he'd heard nothing of the sort during dinner the previous night — though he must admit he was pretty absorbed by an article he was reading about a new line of designer brooches. Regardless, he knows he would've heard a mention of Finn. What business would Finn Hudson have hanging out with his dad?

"And why are they joining us for dinner tonight?" Kurt asks, ignoring the way Finn and Quinn shift uncomfortably as Burt shakes his head in disappointment.

"Kurt, we're not going to discuss this right now," Burt says sternly, glaring at his son as his grip on a cantalope tightens dangerously.

"I'm going to head out now," Quinn mumbles as she attempts to grab her bag and shoes as quietly as she can.

Finn trails after Quinn, following her back out to the entryway, leaving Kurt and his dad alone in the kitchen. The silence is deafening as the Hummel men stand across the kitchen from one another, both with their arms crossed and glares frozen on their faces. Burt gives in with an exasperated sigh, taking off his usual ball cap to rub at his temples in frustration.

"I was trying to introduce all of this slowly, but you wouldn't listen to me, and now we—"

"Can you just tell me what's going on?" Kurt snaps before Burt can finish.

"Finn's mother and I are seeing each other," Burt blurts out in booming volume, slapping his hand down on the counter in anger.

Kurt is startled by his tone, jumping slightly as the objects on the counter shake and some topple over. He's so surprised by his typically reserved father's outburst that he doesn't even realize what he's just said. His dad and Finn's mom? Kurt knows as well as anyone that the dating pool in Lima is slim, but couldn't his dad have found anyone else?

"Things are getting serious between us, and I invited her to dinner tonight so that she could meet you and—"

"Do I have to go to this?" Kurt mutters, cutting off his dad once again.

Burt, already flustered by the situation at hand, is only further angered by Kurt's obvious disrespect for him. "Yes. And if you don't then you're grounded for another month," he says gruffly, clearly at his wits end.

"Using the threat of grounding to get me to bond with your girlfriend — very nice," Kurt says with a roll of his eyes, exiting the kitchen before his dad can ground him anyway for talking back.

Quinn's things are gone from the entryway, and Finn has disappeared to god knows where. Kurt's grateful for the emptiness of the home once more, even if it'll soon be filled with the voices of the Hudson family. He stomps to his room and locks the door behind him, not in the mood for his dad to come down to try and mediate things once he's calmed down. It's not that he minds the idea of his dad dating other women — it had been 10 years since his mother had passed away — it was his dad's choice of family that he took issue with. Finn Hudson, who had played his role in breaking Kurt's best friend's heart time and time again, only for her to be the one to put the final end to things, is dumber than a bag of rocks. Plus, Kurt hasn't forgotten that Finn had been one of the primary instigators of the slushie facials he'd suffered during his pre-Cheerio days. Finn Hudson is a bully — and while he may keep up friendly appearances at school, he refuses to welcome a bully into his home, let alone his family.

He collapses onto his bed with a groan, closing his eyes and willing away the headache he can already feel approaching. His phone buzzes again, and he considers turning it off for the rest of the night so he can sulk in peace, but what he needs right now is a distraction. The new texts from Blaine make him smile, and for a brief moment he forgets about his dad and Finn.

_"I'm not texting Quinn? But more importantly I have to call your taste in television into question. The Bachelor? Seriously?" _

_"I'm going to take your lack of a reply to mean that your dad hired that dragon after all." _

_"But good news: I am an excellent dragon slayer." _

Kurt grins, reading the messages twice for good measure. He spends ten full minutes coming up with his response before replying.

_"One - The Bachelor is quality garbage television, thank you very much. Two - No dragon slaying necessary, but I do have a different unwelcome intruder at my house. Any chance you can call an emergency football meeting to get Finn to leave?" _

Blaine replies quicker than Kurt anticipates. _"Finn Hudson is hanging out at your house? That just doesn't go together. And sadly no, I don't think I can - but I can offer you refuge at my place? My parents are out for the night."_

Kurt bites his lip and considers the offer. It's incredibly tempting — they can pick up where they'd left off in the locker room without the fear of interruption. It's obviously a better way to spend the evening than at an awkward dinner with the Hudson brood — but he's already on thin ice with his dad, pushing the envelope any further would mean a guaranteed two month-long grounding and a loss of laptop (and even possibly cellphone) privileges.

_"It's a long story - one that sadly means I can't sneak away tonight. But I'm not opposed to taking you up on that refuge another day. And I believe we now have an English project to work on together." _

He grins to himself as he types out his reply. While it aches to turn down Blaine's invitation for something as stupid as a not-family dinner, the prospect of scheduling alone time together keeps the fire in the pit of his stomach alive.

_"My place after school on Friday?" _

Kurt bites his lip. _"It's a date."_

* * *

The first official Hudson-Hummel family dinner isn't the catastrophic disaster Kurt had expected it to be. As much as hates to admit it, Carole Hudson is a very pleasant and kind woman. Had the circumstances been any difference he might have even liked her — she's able to make a flavorful meal within the boundaries of Burt's cardiologist-mandated diet, she knows more about the Buckeyes than Kurt has known in his whole life, and while her outfit may look as though it came from the clearance rack at a foreclosed Dress Barn, it's workable and shows some signs of promise. She looks at Burt lovingly while he tells the story of how they first met — bumping into one another at the grocery store. It's not Nora Ephron by any means, but Burt tells it as though it might as well be. Finn shovels his first helping of food down in three bites and Kurt struggles to hold in his own dinner as he watches Finn shove a roll into his already packed mouth. Carole subtly gestures to her son to slow down and chew his food, but it does little to quell his ravenous appetite. Burt is easily charmed by Finn, patting him on the back and praising him for his growing boy appetite.

"Getting Kurt to eat anything that isn't salad is like pulling teeth," Burt jokes good naturedly, earning him a nasty glare from his son.

Kurt considers replying with something snarky, but knows it's in his best interest to stay silent. His dad's finger is on the trigger of the proverbial gun, and the warning looks he shoots Kurt throughout dinner make it clear he's not afraid to punish him if he dares step a toe out of line. When the plates have been loaded into the dishwasher and awkward goodbyes have been said, Kurt heads right back to his room, bypassing his dad's attempt to communicate with him. While the dinner hadn't been a disaster, the sight of Finn sitting at his table, eating their food off of their plates, was unsettling. Even if things were strained with his dad, the house was Kurt's safe space. At home he was free from the pressures of high school and keeping up with appearances. He could blast his showtunes and spend hours browsing for vintage Burberry trenches without a care. Just the thought of Finn being in his space, playing his own music and inviting over his own friends, made Kurt's skin crawl.

He flopped onto his bed and stared at his phone aimlessly. He considered texting Quinn, but something about ranting to her about Finn, who was still an open wound for her, felt crass. He could text Santana or Brittany, but the thought of being so open and vulnerable sounded more nerve wracking than comforting. He even briefly considers texting Blaine — but the last thing he needs is to further complicate their relationship with the introduction of his personal family dramas. Instead, he plugs in his headphones and turns his Spotify up as high as he dares. He closes his eyes and lets himself forget about all of his life's messes and focus on the music until it lulls him to sleep.

* * *

The promise of a scheduled meeting with Blaine is the one thing that helps get Kurt through the week, as sad as that is to admit. The homework continues to pile up, and the remaining Cheerio's practices leading up to Monday's pep rally are more hectic than ever. It's a small miracle that Sue doesn't bend her long-standing rule about not having practice on Fridays — but by the end of the week the squad is so burnt out and sore an extra practice wouldn't be of any use.

Kurt doesn't bother to mention his and Blaine's plans to meet to anyone — though he has the perfectly valid excuse of meeting to work on their English project (which looks to be more time consuming than Kurt had originally anticipated). His dad begrudgingly agrees to letting him go to Blaine's after school Friday, despite his grounding, once he reminded him that it was for a grade.

They don't drive to Blaine's house together once class ends — Kurt wants to go back home to change out of his Cheerio's uniform before heading over. By the time Kurt is 10 minutes from the address Blaine had texted him, his heart is pounding so loudly in his ears he can barely hear the music playing on the radio. He has no reason to be nervous. After his and Blaine's 'confrontation' in the locker room earlier that week, Blaine has found the willpower within himself to actually make eye contact with Kurt every now and then. They even have a perfectly normal conversation about Britney Spears at lunch on Thursday. He's able to sit beside Blaine in class without succumbing to daydreams — and for the most part his nightly fantasies have begun to fade away. He doesn't need fantasies when reality is just on the horizon.

He fiddles with his hair for the upteenth time, over analyzing his reflection in his phone's front facing camera. He reconsiders his outfit, though he knows there was nothing he could do to change it. With the weather in Lima still on the warm side he wasn't able to indulge in his usual 3-4 layers, but instead settled on a pair of black jeans and a patterned button down that was already a bit too warm for comfort. He takes in a deep breath for confidence before stepping out of his car and making his way to the front door.

Blaine answers the door with superhuman speed, Kurt smirking when the door practically slams open mere seconds after he'd rung the bell.

"Waiting by the window for me?" he asks with a raised brow.

"Mm, something like that," Blaine replies coyly before ushering Kurt into his home.

Blaine is his usual gentlemanly self, offering Kurt a quick tour of his modest two story home. Kurt is easily distracted in the living room by a photo of a hardly two year old Blaine drooling all over himself and a very disgruntled mall Santa. Blaine groans and pulls Kurt away by the arm before he can stumble upon anymore of the embarrassing baby photos displayed on the living room mantle. They stop in the kitchen for glasses of water where Kurt discovers yet another adorable photo, this time of Blaine and who he learns is Blaine's older brother, Cooper, playing in a sandbox.

"Your brother seems familiar," Kurt muses, eyes narrowed as he struggles to place where he's seen Cooper before.

Blaine rolls his eyes and groans as he replies. "Everyone says that. He's from the Free Credit Rating Today commercials."

Kurt gasps and snaps his fingers as it all comes flooding back. "Your brother is the pride and joy of the state of Ohio?!" Kurt exclaims.

"He's just a guy from a commercial," Blaine mutters, crossing his arms defensively.

"Yeah, the most famous series of commercials in the history of… ever. He made people care about getting their credit score, which might be the most boring thing in the world," Kurt praises with starry eyes, reminiscing on how easily he'd developed a crush on the handsome star of the series of commercials that played far more than a commercial about credit ratings should be played. "Do you think you could get me his autograph?"

"No," Blaine answers quickly and with a firm air of finality.

Kurt slides up beside Blaine, smiling up at him devilishly, leaving very little room between their bodies. "Not even if I did you a favor in return?"

Blaine peeks up in interest, eyes not very subtly running along the slope of Kurt's body where he's leaning against the counter. He leans forward just slightly, only for Kurt to place a firm hand against his chest and widen the teasing bit of distance between them.

"Autograph first, favor later."

"That seems like cheating," Blaine grumbles as Kurt turns away from him, prepared to move on to the next room on their house tour.

"My game, my rules," Kurt says with a triumphant smile as he gestures for Blaine to lead the way.

Blaine's bedroom is not what Kurt expects — it's surprisingly neat for a teenage boy (though it's far from the pristine condition he maintains for his own bedroom). The bookcase is arranged by color, with the exception of the Harry Potter series which has an entire shelf to itself — which Kurt finds very impressive, if a little bit inconvenient for actually finding a book when you need it. There's a signed Hamilton poster above his bed, which Kurt tries not to ogle in envy, but fails miserably.

"My dad has a connection," Blaine explains with a nonchalant shrug as he takes a seat at his desk.

"I wish my dad had those kinds of connections," Kurt says ruefully. The only types of connections his father has are to mechanics and plumbers in the Midwest, not of much use to him.

Kurt takes a seat on the edge of Blaine's bed, brows knitting in confusion as he watches Blaine turn his attention to the cluttered stacks of papers on his desk. He finds the packet for their English project and flips through it, scanning the instructional page before speaking again.

"We have a couple of different options we could go with. There's the standard research paper route, but that seems pretty boring compared to the other directions we could go with this."

Blaine reads through the other options for their project, already beginning to brainstorm ideas and theses. Kurt halfheartedly reaches into his backpack and pulls out his English notebook, barely listening to what Blaine's saying. Sure, they did have to actually work on their project at some point, but he'd been under the impression that this meeting was for ulterior purposes. He kicks off his boots and lays back on the bed in what he hopes is an alluring manner, but Blaine doesn't pay him any mind, still prattling off ideas for their project. Kurt clears his throat in his next attempt to get Blaine's attention, but to no avail.

"Hey," Kurt finally says, cutting Blaine off in the middle of a sentence about the symbolism of birds in Wide Sargasso Sea.

Blaine blinks up at him, finally noticing that Kurt is stretched out along his bed. "What's up?"

"Come here," he commands. Blaine, blushing under Kurt's intense gaze, obliges nonetheless.

Blaine smiles as he gets up from his desk and heads over to his bed, running a hand along Kurt's arm as he settles down beside him. "It was stupid on my part to think we could work on the project first and get to this later," he says with a smile as his hand settles on Kurt's waist.

"I spent ten minutes trying to get into these jeans, we're definitely not working on that project today," Kurt says before curling his fingers in the fabric of Blaine's polo and pulling him in.

They kiss slowly at first — taking advantage of the sweet, luxurious time they've never had before. Kurt lets his fingers draw patterns along the toned muscles of Blaine's arms just because he can, and even lets Blaine's fingers tangle in his hair for a few seconds because he's feeling generous. Things grow warmer and faster as Blaine hovers over Kurt, easily slotting himself between Kurt's legs. Blaine pulls Kurt's shirt free from his pants and runs calloused fingertips over the smooth plane of his torso.

It's nothing Kurt hasn't done before with other boys, but it's all so perfect and glorious and wrong yet Kurt can only find it in himself to care about two of the three. Blaine is so warm against his cold skin and just the barest brush of Blaine's lips against his is enough to send Kurt's mind reeling. With other boys, kissing had been fun but ultimately felt more like a chore — kissing Blaine is exhilarating. Blaine smells so good, and the weight of him on top of Kurt is so perfect, and god he knows exactly where to touch and kiss and bite. Kissing Blaine lets Kurt escape his boring and drab world and all his worries about Finn and his father and Quinn, and escape to a world where everything is passionate and exciting and fire hot to the touch. Maybe kissing Blaine is the solution to world peace, Kurt thinks to himself.

Kurt's lips drag along Blaine's exposed collarbone, Blaine cradling Kurt's neck delicately as he cranes up to reach him. Blaine's free hand travels down the slope of Kurt's chest and settles atop his belt buckle. Kurt nibbles lightly right at the crook of Blaine's neck and he lets out a breathy moan against Kurt's hairline as he scrabbles to undo the belt buckle with one hand. Kurt leans back and pulls Blaine in by the collar for a searing kiss. Blaine, now with both hands free, makes quick work of the belt buckle this time. Kurt jeans are achingly tight and he needs to be touched so badly he feels as though he's going to explode. Once his belt is undone, Blaine takes a moment to roll his hips down against Kurt's — the friction so explosively wonderful Kurt throws his head back and moans shamelessly. Blaine's lips are on the column of his throat, his fingers now inching back towards his pants, just seconds from undoing the button and zipper when a shrill chime rings out.

Blaine is frozen against Kurt, rigid as marble as the chime rings in their ears. Kurt shifts uncomfortably beneath him, sitting up slightly. "What was—"

"Someone's here," Blaine says exasperatedly before Kurt can finish.

Kurt swallows hard, glancing nervously up at Blaine. The other boy is still completely frozen, his hand still mere inches from Kurt's desperately hard (but thankfully still clothed) cock. "You can ignore it," he offers, placing a supportive hand on Blaine's arm, sincerely hoping that's the route Blaine is going to take. He's so aroused that the brief disruption has left him very lightheaded.

"Fuck, it could be my mom. She always forgets her keys," Blaine mumbles, dropping his head for a moment before dragging himself off of Kurt. "Just… stay here. I'll be right back." He places a quick, mindless kiss to the corner of Kurt's mouth before readjusting himself, discreetly hiding his own arousal by carefully shifting his sweater.

Kurt pulls himself up once Blaine's gone and glances at his reflection in the mirror across the room. He doesn't look nearly as wrecked as he feels — his shirt is in disarray but his hair is at least manageable. He makes himself look more presentable and redoes his belt, just to be safe, and grabs his English notebook off of the floor. He opens it up across his lap — covering up the very obvious tenting in his jeans — and listlessly skims the page he'd opened up to.

"You really don't have to do that," Kurt hears Blaine say, his voice distant but growing louder along with the sound of approaching footsteps.

"It's not a— AH!" Quinn lets out a half yelp-half scream when she backs into Blaine's bedroom, turning around to find Kurt on his bed. Kurt lets out a much more terrified scream in response.

His heart is pounding faster than ever before and he's very certain he's going to pass out when Blaine tumbles into the room, out of breath from having chased after Quinn. This is it, he thinks, this is the moment where everything comes tumbling down. He's already rehearsing his apology, prepared to crawl on his hands and knees and vow to a life of celibacy if it means Quinn will forgive him… well, maybe not that last part.

"Jesus Blaine, why didn't you just tell me Kurt was here," Quinn scolds, fanning herself as she takes in a deep breath.

Kurt's eyes, still wide as saucers, shoot between Blaine and Quinn at rapid speed. Blaine doesn't seem nearly as concerned as Kurt does, shooting him a sympathetic smile. "I told you last night Kurt was coming over to work on our English project."

Kurt does his best not to let out a sigh of relief. Instead he smiles awkwardly and nods at Quinn, pressing his notebook down into his lap and begging his boner to die down as soon as possible.

"Oh shoot, that's right." Quinn turns to Blaine with a frown. "I'm sorry, B, I completely forgot."

"It's fine, Q, I can go over to your place later or—"

"Or I can leave," Kurt offers. "Blaine and I are pretty much done here."

"No, stay, Kurt. You guys are working on something. I'll wait my turn," Quinn says as she slides her arms around Blaine's waist, placing a sweet kiss on his cheek as his arms wrap weakly around her. The sight is enough to make Kurt go limp in his pants almost immediately.

"Actually, I have some very exciting news for you," Quinn directs at Kurt, turning in Blaine's arms. Kurt raises a skeptical brow, trying not to focus on where Quinn's hands are resting over Blaine's on her waist. "A little birdie in the administration office told me that there's a very handsome new exchange student at McKinley, who'll be performing with the glee club at the pep rally," she says with a wicked grin.

"Is he also very gay, or did you forget about that part?" Kurt doesn't bother hiding the snark in his voice as he closes his notebook and tosses it back into his bag.

"Yes he is, so you can cut the sass and give me a thank you for giving you the heads up," Quinn chastises.

"Once again, I'm single, not desperate. And I'm definitely not desperate enough to date someone in the glee club. You should know as well as anyone that would be guaranteed social suicide," he mutters as he begins to pull on his shoes, preparing to leave Blaine and Quinn to whatever it was she had planned for them for the evening.

"Exceptions can be made. Especially for cute British boys."

Blaine looks very done with the conversation at hand, especially when he sees Kurt gathering his things together. "Not to be rude, but Kurt and I were sort of in the middle of—"

"No, it's fine. Really. I have to get home before my curfew anyway."

Quinn is content with this turn of events, making herself comfortable in Blaine's space as she kicks off her sneakers and takes Kurt's place, stretched out along his bed and curling around his pillow like it's her second home.

"I'll walk you out," Blaine says, not paying Quinn any mind as he closes the door behind them on the way out.

They walk in silence down to the entryway, Kurt's fingers toying awkwardly with the strap of his messenger bag as they pause at the door.

"I'm really sorry, she just showed up even though I told her I wasn't free tonight," Blaine apologizes sincerely, but Kurt keeps his gaze on the floor.

"It's fine. She's your girlfriend, she gets to swing by whenever she wants," he says with a shrug as he reaches for the doorknob.

Before Kurt can reach the doorknob Blaine takes his face in his hands and kisses him. The force of it knocks Kurt back slightly and he has to inhale deeply through his nose to muffle his surprise. His fingers twitch at his sides, not sure whether to pull Blaine close or push him away. They're standing in the bright light of the entryway, completely open with Quinn just a staircase and a hallway away — and yet Kurt still loses himself in the kiss anyway. The moment Blaine is on him, everything else in the world is gone because all that matters is the way Blaine makes him feel — as though his nerve endings have ignited, like he's walking on air.

The kiss is indulgent but brief. When they pull apart Kurt can see the frown tugging at the corner of Blaine's lips. "I'll text you. We'll figure something out," Blaine promises, taking Kurt's hand in his and squeezing it reassuringly.

"Okay," is all Kurt says, smiling sadly before taking his hand out of Blaine's and opening the door.

He makes his way back to his car and sits in silence for several seconds, hands frozen on the wheel. He lets out an unrestrained scream of frustration and lets his body collapse against the steering wheel. What an absolute fucking mess.


	7. Chapter 7

It quickly becomes clear to both Kurt and Blaine that finding a way to spend alone time together is going to be nearly impossible. Kurt is still bound to his grounding for another week, which means Saturday and Sunday are out of the question. The one day both of them don't have football or Cheerio practices Blaine has already promised to spend with Quinn. Most of Blaine's free time is already claimed by Quinn, and Kurt shouldn't feel so annoyed by that, but he selfishly does. They agree to play things by ear and to try again once Kurt's grounding has been lifted. Besides, they have to actually work on their English project at some point.

The Cheerio's homecoming performance goes off without a hitch. It's still embarrassingly oversexualized, but the crowd reacts positively, as Coach Sue had expected. The male population of McKinley is drooling all over the place as their eyes glaze over watching sixteen beautiful girls (and Kurt) gyrate to Lady Gaga. The applause after their performance is deafening — Kurt's positive he's never heard such passionate applause before.

The glee club's performance is also, to their credit, not as bad as what everyone had anticipated after Rachel Berry's pole dancing stunt. They perform a slowed down rendition of Baby Got Back that is not at all sexy, but surprisingly soothing thanks to their new lead singer. Adam, the new exchange student whose praises Quinn had sung, is admittedly very handsome. He's wearing a brown corduroy vest that Kurt thinks should be burned and a beanie that makes him look like a pretentious NYU student, but the rest of the outfit isn't bad. Kurt can't help but smile as he watches Rachel Berry seethe as she sways listlessly in the background, providing nothing more than backing vocals to Adam's lead. Adam's voice is significantly stronger than Finn's, or any of the other boys in the New Directions — if he doesn't become their new lead soloist then they're even more foolish than Kurt thought. Adam beams at the crowd as they give the New Directions a smattering of applause and Quinn nudges Kurt with a knowing look.

"Told you he was cute," she whispers, looping her arm through his and giving it a squeeze.

"Fine. He's handsome. By Lima standards," Kurt concedes.

"I accept your apology, and will accept payment in the form of being the Maid of Honor at you two's wedding," Quinn sings as Kurt rolls his eyes.

Kurt stands proud alongside Quinn, Santana, and Brittany as they accept waves of praise from their peers as the pep rally finally wraps up. Sam Evans declares their performance the highlight of the year, and even Mr. Schuester, leader of the New Directions and longtime rival of Coach Sylvester, comes over to compliment their 'bold' choices. He attempts a pitch to convince them to audition for the glee club, but Santana cuts him off mid-sentence.

"We don't do try outs. Offer only," she snaps at him before gesturing for the others to follow her.

Santana and Brittany are struggling to hide their laughter as they walk away from a shell shocked Mr. Schuester. Quinn glances back over her shoulder, turning to the others with a frown.

"He's a teacher, we shouldn't be so rude to him," she says to Santana.

"He's a Spanish teacher that can't tell the difference between a ños and anos, he's not going to do a thing," Santana says with a wave of her hand before linking pinkies with Brittany and pulling her towards the parking lot.

Quinn seems uncomfortable by Santana's brushing off of her concerns, but doesn't say more. She says goodbye to Kurt with an uneasy smile, hugging him and sending him on his way as she heads back to the girls locker room.

Kurt's nearly gotten to the parking lot when he's grabbed from behind and yanked into the air and inside of a nearby janitors closet. It all happens so quickly he forgets to scream until the door to the closet has closed in front of him. He's barely let out a yelp when a strong, firm hand presses against his mouth. He's convinced he's going to be face to face with some kind of axe murderer when the light in the closet flicks on and he sees Blaine standing in front of him.

"Are you insane?!" Kurt scolds once Blaine lowers his hand.

"Sorry, I know, I shouldn't have gone with the kidnapping act, but I didn't think you'd come in here if I just asked."

Kurt glances at the bottles of chemicals and stacks of brooms and mops scattered all over the floor, his nose wrinkling at the sight. "You're right, I wouldn't have." He attempts to take a step back, only to realize exactly how cramped the closet actually is. There's barely a foot of space between him and Blaine. "So why exactly are we in a closet?"

"I just really needed to do this." Before Kurt can respond Blaine's hand is on his jaw and he's being kissed so forcefully he's pinned to the wall behind him.

When they break apart Blaine's lips are instantly on Kurt's neck, jaw, collarbone — every inch of exposed skin. "God, that routine should be illegal," he murmurs hotly against his skin before biting gently.

"Watch it, I can't suddenly walk out of a closet with a hickey," Kurt warns, begrudgingly pulling Blaine away from his neck just to pull him in and crash their lips together.

"You're so gorgeous," Blaine murmurs between kisses and it makes Kurt's heart soar. His stomach is all aflutter — the sensation so unfamiliar to him. The last time he'd felt this way was in middle school, when he'd developed his first ever crush on a classmate.

They kiss languidly, taking their time despite the fact that they're in less than comfortable circumstances. Kurt is standing at an awkward angle to avoid knocking over a bottle of bleach, and Blaine is very close to having a still-wet mop drip onto his shoulder. It should be disgusting and gross, but like most things with Blaine, it feels strangely perfect. Blaine is bolder than Kurt gives him credit for — he never would have imagined that Blaine would have the courage to sweep him away for lazy kisses in a janitor's closet while their peers are still milling through the halls.

"Not that this isn't lovely," Kurt says sarcastically once they've pulled apart for air, "but do you think we could move this to somewhere that smells a little less like chlorine?" He runs his palm slowly along Blaine's chest, just barely grazing along the edge of his waistband for good measure.

Blaine sighs, groaning when his own sigh causes Kurt to frown. "I have this thing with my parents I can't get out of on Monday nights," he admits sheepishly.

Kurt does his best to turn his frown into a smile. "Thursday?" he offers hopefully.

Blaine bites his lip as his eyes fall to the ground between them. "I promised Quinn I'd take her to dinner," he mumbles, barely loud enough for Kurt to hear even in their uncomfortably close quarters.

"Oh." Kurt remains silent after that, pulling his hand away from Blaine's chest and shyly attempting to navigate his way towards the door. "I guess I'll see you around th—"

"I'll cancel it," Blaine blurts out before Kurt can reach the door. His palm flies up to cup Kurt's cheek as he closes the distance between them with one step. "I'll cancel dinner with Quinn," he repeats.

"You don't have to do that." Kurt's voice is small and somber, but he still gives Blaine a shy smile and pats the hand resting against his cheek.

"I want to. I want to spend time with you," Blaine reassures, punctuating his statement with a kiss.

They lose themselves in the kissing once again, letting minutes pass by before they speak again. "Come to my house. On Thursday. My dad won't be home," Kurt instructs. He'd been carefully monitoring his dad's whereabouts — trying to see if there was an opportune time for him to invite Blaine over. He'd spotted his dad's day planner on the counter one morning — he had a date with Carole on Thursday night. The thought of it had made him gag at the time, but now proved immensely useful.

"I'll be there," Blaine says with a bright smile. He's so adorable it makes Kurt's heart swell.

* * *

A part of Kurt was concerned that Blaine would go back on his promise of cancelling his dinner plans with Quinn — but his concerns are put to rest on Wednesday morning. Brittany invites them over for a sleepover on Thursday night — her parents had just gifted her a brand new 12-set of pastel nail polish that she was itching to try out on someone other than her cat. Santana readily agrees, but Quinn pauses for a moment. Kurt's breath hitches as he prepares for her to turn down the invitation due to her still scheduled dinner with Blaine.

"Oh, actually, I'm free that night. I was going to do dinner with B, but he had to cancel at the last minute," she says with a shrug, much to Brittany's delight.

All eyes turn to Kurt, and he feels his face grow warm as he attempts to come up with something as quickly as he can. "Sorry, my dad wants to have a family dinner that day."

The girls accept this excuse without question, but pout at the idea of his absence. Brittany is about to plead her case for why Kurt should try to get out of his plans when Adam, of all people, steps right into their path.

"Hello ladies, Kurt," he says jovially, blushing as Quinn's eyes go wide.

"Do we know you?" Santana replies, hissing when Quinn not so subtly elbows her.

"I'm so sorry, I should've properly introduced myself. My name is Adam — I'm new here, just started this semester," he says with a kind smile. Kurt is transfixed by how perfect his smile is — his teeth are so white and straight they look as though they've been cut straight out of a magazine.

"Very nice to meet you, Adam. We have to get to class, but Kurt here has a free period," Quinn announces, slapping Kurt on the shoulder before scooping Santana and Brittany into her arms and ushering them away.

"But I want to stay and talk to him, he talks funny," Brittany complains, whining when Quinn shushes her and pulls her along more quickly.

Kurt is too busy glaring at Quinn to notice how bashful Adam has become now that it's just the two of them. His face softens once he turns to look back at him.

"How did you know my name?" Kurt asks, curious if Quinn and Adam had already crossed paths.

"It was easy to find out, actually. You're a pretty big deal around here. All four of you are."

Kurt preens, but reminds himself to keep a level head. He can't come off too arrogant to someone he doesn't know. "So, what else were you able to find out about me?" he asks as he crosses his arms. It's a genuine question — Kurt's curious about what kind of rumors are flying around about him.

Adam laughs nervously and ducks his head to try to hide his bright pink cheeks — it's actually adorable and Kurt can't help but smile at the sight of such a handsome boy being so shy around him.

"That's about all I could find out, which is actually why I was hoping I could talk to you today." He looks up at Kurt with sparkling, bright blue eyes. "Your performance at the pep rally was magnificent — I-I couldn't take my eyes off of you."

Adam's flushed all the way to the tips of his ears, which coupled with his deliciously posh accent makes him all the more charming. Kurt smiles as he begins to let his guard down — uncrossing his arm and quirking his eyebrow, urging Adam to continue.

"I was hoping that maybe you… you'd like to go out sometime? For coffee, or dinner maybe? Or whatever you want, really," he says with another nervous laugh, toying with his fingers anxiously as he awaits Kurt's reply.

Adam is not at all what Kurt expects. Kurt loves Quinn but she isn't the best at matchmaking — she'd once set Kurt up on a blind date with a boy from Westerville who proceeded to spam Kurt with texts and phone calls if he didn't reply to him within 5 minutes. Kurt had expected Adam to be like the rest of the glee club members — woefully out of touch with fashion, pop culture, and social norms. But Adam seems sweet, and he's ditched the hipster beanie this morning in favor of letting his soft blonde curls go free. Most importantly, Adam is bold — he had the courage to come up to Kurt in front of his friends and ask him out on a date without even knowing more than his name. And fortune favors the bold.

"Sure. I'd like that," Kurt answers, laughing when Adam practically punches the air in excitement.

They exchange numbers — Adam's hands shaking as he inputs his number into Kurt's phone — and agree to text one another that night to try to make plans for the next week. Adam walks off to his next class with an extra pep in his step, not even caring that he's running 10 minutes late. Kurt sighs happily as he watches Adam go, feeling unexpectedly warm and light at the prospect of seeing him again. He indulges in the thought of linking his fingers through Adam's, only to have flashes of Blaine's fingers trailing along his skin intrude. He bites his lip at the thought of Blaine. He briefly considers cancelling their plans for tomorrow night, but ultimately decides against it. He's just going on a date with Adam — a date that hasn't even been planned yet. There's no harm in spending some time with Blaine… or at least, no more than what's already been done.

* * *

Kurt's hopes that the news of him taking up Adam's offer wouldn't travel back to Blaine are quashed in record time. He's thrown into the spotlight during lunch by Quinn and Santana, and they don't back down for a second.

"So, are you and Bend it Like Beckham going to get your mack on?" Santana asks the second Kurt sits down at their usual lunch table.

"Eat your food, vulture," Kurt replies, keeping his attention focused on his salad.

"He's blushing!" Brittany points out with a squeal, clapping her hands with glee.

"Give us the details, pleeeease," Quinn begs, leaning all of her weight against Kurt as she blinks up at him with pleading eyes.

"Why can't I have a pleasant conversation with another guy without being the subject of the third degree?!"

"Because we know that wasn't a regular pleasant conversation," Quinn replies, prodding Kurt's arm with a spork.

Kurt groans as he throws his fork onto his plate and does his best to wiggle away from Quinn. "Adam asked me out," he admits with a grumble, rolling his eyes as the girls explode with excitement at the news.

"What's going on over here?" Blaine asks as he pulls up to their table, along with Finn, Mike, and Sam, taking their usual seats.

"Kurt's going on a date with the pretty new boy with the funny voice!" Brittany exclaims before reaching over to wrap her arms around Kurt in a tight hug.

They're celebrating as though he's just announced he's won the lottery. Kurt shakes his head at their overblown reactions, giving Brittany a pat on the arm before she releases him from her hold. Finn and Sam exchange confused looks. Kurt glances at Blaine out of the corner of his eye, unable to read his expression.

"The guy who sang the song about butts at the pep rally?" Sam asks.

"The very same," Kurt replies dryly, shoving a large bite of salad into his mouth so that he can have an excuse not to talk.

Quinn and Santana grill Kurt with question after question — even Finn joins in and starts asking more and more about Kurt's plans with Adam. He dodges them all as best he can — ensuring them that there's nothing more to tell than that Adam asked him out and he'd said yes. No, he doesn't know what they're going to do yet. Yes, they exchanged numbers. No, he doesn't think he and Adam are going to get married now.

Blaine remains quiet throughout lunch, but still smiles and laughs whenever appropriate. His arm is around Quinn the moment he finishes his sandwich and he doesn't move it until they have to part ways for class. He kisses her on the cheek before she goes her own way to History, then glances at Kurt over his shoulder. They catch each other's eyes for just a moment. Blaine looks as though he's going to say something, only to be pulled away by Sam and Mike.

* * *

Kurt and Blaine mutually agree that it's in their best interest to work on their English project before getting up to anything else. The proposal for the project is due the following week and Blaine's schedule has become consumed with football practices leading up to their first game of the season. True to his word, Blaine comes over after school on Thursday and they set up shop in Kurt's living room. Thanks to some further digging Kurt was able to find out his dad's dinner reservations weren't until 8pm, as he'd also purchased tickets to a movie beforehand. It gives Kurt and Blaine ample alone time for whatever it is they'd like to get up to.

They're able to work together comfortably, throwing ideas around and chatting amicably as though there isn't something simmering between them just below the surface. Once they've cobbled together about 3/4s of a proposal, they decide to take a break. They abandon their stacks of papers and notebooks at the dining table in favor of moving to the kitchen for some water and snacks. Kurt's in the midst of cutting up slices of watermelon when he looks up to see Blaine staring intently at him. He raises an eyebrow at the other boy, earning a smirk in response.

"Watermelon for your thoughts?" Kurt holds out a cubed piece of watermelon.

Blaine accepts and pops the fruit into his mouth, but says no more. Kurt rolls his eyes and turns his attention to cutting up the last of the fruit.

"Are you actually going out with that guy?" Blaine finally asks, eyes fixed on Kurt's watermelon sticky fingers.

"Which guy?" Kurt replies with a smirk. It's obvious who Blaine is referring to. There's currently only one person vying after Kurt's affection. Well… two, if you count Blaine. But Kurt can't resist the opportunity to toy with Blaine — lord knows his own emotions had been toyed with by Blaine often enough.

"The new guy. Adam," Blaine clarifies, his tone more serious than before.

"Sure. I don't see why not," Kurt says with a shrug.

He and Adam had texted for a bit the previous night. They'd agreed to try to find a time and date for dinner the following weekend and had chatted a bit about how Adam was liking Ohio thus far. Not exactly scintillating conversation, but pleasant enough to keep Kurt interested.

"He doesn't seem like your type," Blaine muses before swiping a slice of watermelon off of the plate in front of Kurt.

"Oh really? I would love to hear what you think my type is," Kurt teases.

Blaine's cheeks flare up as he avoids Kurt's gaze. He looks as though he's regretting bringing it up in the first place but Kurt is far too interested now to let him back down.

"I don't know… He just looks like he was copied straight out of a rom com script."

"Maybe that's what I'm looking for in my life," Kurt says around a bite of watermelon. "Something cheesy and predictable."

"Is that so?"

Kurt shrugs. He licks a bit of watermelon juice off of his lower lip and looks up at Blaine with a devilish grin. "Maybe I can make some room for occasional unpredictability."

Kurt's not positive Blaine has even heard anything he's said — the other boy's eyes are obviously focused in on Kurt's pink-tinged lips. He smirks, setting down his watermelon slice in favor of sliding over to where Blaine stands on the opposite side of the counter.

"Something tells me I've lost your attention," he whispers as his arms slide around Blaine's neck.

"On the contrary, you have my full, undivided attention," Blaine counters, hands settling on Kurt's waist before leaning in to press their lips together.

They both taste of watermelon, sweet and sticky and messy. When Kurt drags his tongue along Blaine's lower lips he moans at the delicious taste of sugar and Blaine. Blaine's fingers dig roughly into Kurt's waist, dipping below the hem of his shirt and pressing hard into his bare skin as he pulls him in closer.

"Should we go to your room?" Blaine asks in between kisses. Kurt nods once he's snapped back to reality, the two of them abandoning their snacks in favor of racing each other to the bedroom.

Kurt reaches the room first, grinning as Blaine slams the door behind him and locks it, just to be safe.

"No interruptions?" Blaine asks as he slowly makes his way to where Kurt is sitting on the edge of his bed.

"Not unless both the Lima Cineplex and Breadstix decide to burn down tonight," he jokes.

"Good. Because I've been thinking about doing this all week," Blaine whispers as he finally closes the distance between them, leaning down to press his lips to Kurt's and slide himself between Kurt's legs.

Kurt pulls Blaine down to lay on top of him, their legs dangling over the edge of the bed. He's amazed by how intense it all still feels — how much urgency there is as their hands move faster and faster, working to cover more ground. Blaine's fingers are on his belt buckle in record time, picking up exactly where they'd left off. Kurt's heart is pounding in his chest as his belt buckle is undone in seconds — praying to whatever deity that they aren't interrupted by his dad or Finn or whoever the hell else might decide to show up.

Kurt breathes a sigh of relief as Blaine successfully undoes his belt and the fly of his jeans, breaking off their kiss long enough to focus his efforts on peeling him out of the skin tight fabric. Kurt feels oddly vulnerable as Blaine tosses his jeans aside, running a hand along the smooth skin of his thighs, eyes taking him in. He'd already seen Blaine without clothes once before — even if it had been in less than ideal circumstances — but this is the first time Blaine will be seeing him without his usual armor of fabulous clothing. He bites his lip, his cheeks flushing as Blaine glances up at him with wide, lust blown eyes.

"You're stunning," he murmurs before leaning in for a hungry kiss. Kurt can't help but smirk at Blaine's reaction.

"Wait until you see me without a shirt," he replies teasingly in between kisses, earning a groan from Blaine in reply.

It's easy to feign overconfidence in the face of vulnerability. He feels more comfortable with Blaine thinking he's confident and sexy and in love with his body, rather than revealing for even a moment that he's nervous about what Blaine might think of him. It's something he hasn't felt in years — and even his first time shedding clothing with another boy he hadn't been as nervous. Something about Blaine makes the stakes seem higher. If Blaine doesn't like what he sees there's no ignoring Kurt's texts and pretending he doesn't exist until they fade from each others lives, slowly but surely. There's something about his opinion, the way he sees him, that Kurt holds with such value.

For all he knows, this is the first time Blaine will be seeing another boy naked — what if he finds Kurt repulsive? What if he compares Kurt's harsh lines and rough edges to the soft curves of Quinn's body and decides he prefers her? There's nothing necessarily wrong with that — she's his girlfriend after all, perhaps she's all he's ever known. But even so, the thought of being compared to Quinn makes Kurt uneasy — so he does his best to distract himself.

Doubts and insecurities are pushed to the back of Kurt's mind when Blaine's hand unexpectedly slides beneath Kurt's underwear, grasping his already straining cock in his warm hand. Kurt gasps against Blaine's lips as the other boy gives his cock a few agonizingly slow pumps. Kurt attempts to reach for Blaine's own belt, only for Blaine's fingers to abandon his cock and wrap firmly around his wrist. Both of his wrists are pinned over his head as Blaine breaks off their kiss, breathing hard against Kurt's swollen lips.

"I-I've never done this before…" he murmurs.

"That's okay," Kurt reassures, ignoring how badly his cock is aching now. "We don't have to do anything if you don't—"

"I want to," Blaine says before Kurt can finish. "I want to so badly."

"Okay."

With Kurt's vocal approval, Blaine releases his wrists and drags his lips down Kurt's jaw to his neck to his collarbone. He kisses down the exposed patch of skin just below his clavicle, pushing at the collar of Kurt's shirt as his fingers hook on the waistband of Kurt's underwear. Kurt's breath hitches as Blaine pulls his boxer briefs off, tossing them aside before turning his attention back to Kurt's cock. Blaine is kneeling between Kurt's thighs, marveling so intently at his flushed pink cock that it makes Kurt blush. Enough time passes that he begins to feel self conscious under Blaine's intense gaze, but before he can say anything Blaine is leaning down and wrapping his lips around him and stars burst and cloud Kurt's vision.

It's better than Kurt could have ever imagined. All of Blaine's inexperience is outmatched by his eagerness. He takes Kurt's cock into his throat with such an unnatural ease that Kurt can't fathom how this is possibly Blaine's first time doing this. He pumps Kurt with his free hand in time with the movement of his lips and it only takes seconds for him to reduce Kurt to a blubbering mess of moans and gasps. He is as generous as Quinn had painted him to be — every time Kurt thinks Blaine has taken him in as far as he can go he pushes himself even further. He considers reminding Blaine to breathe but he can't find the strength to do anything but cry out Blaine's name and writhe against his bedsheets.

Blaine's free hand comes up to clutch at Kurt's hip, doing his best to hold Kurt from wriggling around so much. Kurt takes the hint and does his best to keep his hips firmly planted on the bed, choosing to entangle his fingers in a bone crushing grip on the bedspread to occupy himself instead. Blaine's mouth and hands bob faster on his cock and Blaine's fingers are now gripping Kurt's thighs so tight he's worried he'll bruise, but it doesn't matter because the feeling is divine, heavenly, sent from above.

"Shit, I'm close," he murmurs, tugging on Blaine's sleeve.

Blaine pulls off of his cock with a sinful pop, only needing to stroke Kurt a handful of times before his orgasm is crashing over him. Blaine leans back up, kissing Kurt through his orgasm, sucking hard on his bottom lip as he pulls away once Kurt is spent and collapsed into a weightless heap.

"There's no way you've never done that before," Kurt mumbles in amazement as he struggles to catch his breath.

Blaine smirks at the praise as he releases his hold on Kurt's cock. He keeps his eyes fixed on Kurt as he lifts his cum streaked fingers to his lips and licks them clean. Kurt groans at the sight, barely able to do much else as his cock strains limply between his legs.

"I really haven't. I just had an excellent motivator," Blaine replies before kissing Kurt once again, Kurt moaning at the taste of himself on Blaine's lips.

"Well luckily for me, you're a very fast learner," Kurt teases, pushing Blaine back and straddling his hips, intent on returning the favor.

* * *

Kurt and Blaine spend a total of three blissfully uninterrupted hours together that night. Most of their time is spent exchanging slow kisses, pulling the last of their clothing off and basking in each other's nakedness. Kurt is positive he could spend hours staring at Blaine's naked body — if given the time and permission, he would gladly write poems and love songs about the other boy's abs, and write sonnets about his arms. Blaine makes it clear he's as big a fan of Kurt's body as Kurt is of his. By the time Blaine finally heads home for the night there are few patches of Kurt's skin that he hasn't run his lips over.

The reality of having Blaine naked and pliable beneath him and over him had been far more satisfying than Kurt's fantasies. Blaine had been nervous or hesitant at times, blaming it on his inexperience, but was eager to learn more, with Kurt as his teacher. Kurt finds a stamina in him that he's never had before. He's hard again mere minutes after his own mouth has sunk down on Blaine's cock — his body desperate for Blaine to touch him somewhere, anywhere. When they collapse beside each other, completely spent after 2 orgasms each, they can hardly catch their breath.

"That was amazing. Also I can't breathe. I might die. But that's fine, it would be an amazing death," Blaine says breathlessly, resting his head on Kurt's bare chest.

Kurt laughs and holds Blaine close but says no more. They remain there, wrapped up in one another, until Blaine has to pull away begrudgingly, and head out before his parents become suspicious. They kiss at the doorway before Blaine heads out, with unspoken promises to find a way to make this happen again. There's no guilt and no shame — just the happiness and excitement they both feel at the prospect of more time with one another.

Blaine leaving early is for the best, in the end, as Burt arrives home earlier than he'd expected. Kurt, in an unusually chipper mood, asks his dad how his date went. His dad doesn't hide his surprise at Kurt's interest in his romantic life — but happily divulges that he and Carole had a lovely time, and that Breadstix had a new specialty cheesecake that he thinks Kurt would love. Kurt smiles, says he'll make sure he tries it next time he's there, and heads off to bed. Burt's eyes watch his son walk away with a wide grin on his face and wonders what the hell has gotten into him.

* * *

"Quinn, that might be the worst idea you've had in your life."

Kurt storms away from Quinn and back towards the locker room before Quinn can plead her case yet again. She'd been on him from the moment he'd arrived at Cheerio's practice, poking and prodding at him for details about his upcoming date with Adam. When Kurt finally caved and said that they were planning on going to Breadstix on Friday night, Quinn had squealed in excitement.

"We should do a double date!" she'd exclaimed, clapping her hands for emphasis.

Quinn has, one might say, an obsession with relationships. For the past two years, she'd been completely absorbed by the drama of her own relationship — spending days and weeks focused on whatever her latest issue was. She and Finn were on a break and she heard about him flirting with a girl at the Lima Bean, or when she and Puck had a brief fling and she'd spent three weeks over analyzing a comment he'd made that she interpreted as him saying she'd gained weight.

With Blaine, though, there was seldom any drama. In the first few months of their relationship, Quinn had complained to Kurt that she was worried about the lack of arguments she had in her relationship with Blaine.

"Maybe this just means you're finally in a healthy relationship for once," Kurt had said, though Quinn had shaken him off at the time.

As their relationship progressed and became more solid and steady, Quinn began to seek out other ways to fill the void that her successful relationship had created — her primary solution: inserting herself into other people's relationships. She'd tagged along on two of Brittany's dates with a boy from the hockey team — convincing Santana to join along as well. Her attempt at setting up Santana with a girl from Mount Carmel had blown up in her face when their date ended with them getting into a cat fight in the middle of the mall.

Quinn had already taken credit for laying the groundwork for Kurt and Adam's budding relationship, and she wanted to see her new project through. Kurt couldn't think of something he wanted to do less than go on a double date with Blaine and Quinn. First dates were awkward enough — the last thing he needed was his occasional hook up sitting across from him the entire time.

"Oh come on, why not!" Quinn calls out to Kurt as she trails after him.

"Because our double dates never end well," Kurt replies.

He had been on two double dates with Quinn — both while she was still dating Finn. The first time, Finn and Quinn had gotten into a screaming match over what appetizer to order (Quinn wanted spinach and artichoke dip, Finn wanted mozzarella sticks), and the second time Finn made a snarky comment about Kurt's date for wearing a Seahawks Jersey, which evolved into a full blown argument that would've turned into a fist fight if Kurt and Quinn hadn't intervened.

"It'll be different this time! Blaine and I are a very calm and collected couple."

Quinn slides in front of Kurt, blocking the door to the boys locker room, looking up at him expectantly.

"Are you going to stand there until I say yes?"

"Yes," Quinn replies, crossing her arms and leaning against the door.

Kurt lets out a groan and an overexaggerated roll of his eyes before nodding his half-hearted consent to making his first date with Adam into a double date. Quinn squeals once again and places a quick kiss to Kurt's cheek before jogging off to the girls locker room.

"I'll text you! You won't regret this, I promise!"

Bright as she is, she's completely wrong. Kurt regrets this decision instantly.


	8. Chapter 8

Kurt is good at first dates – in fact, he might go as far as to say he's great at first dates. He's a people person – he's easily able to pick up on what others are feeling and adapt himself to the situation. If his date is on the more introverted side, he'll keep things light, start off small and try to get to know them. If his date is feeling flirty, he'll turn up the sex appeal to a hundred and let things go from there. He's only ever once not gotten invited out for a second date, and the boy followed up quickly to let Kurt know that it wasn't about him, he just wasn't ready to come out just yet. Kurt let him know he respected his decision and moved on to the next boy he'd matched with on Tinder.

Even the two boys he'd invited out on his previous disastrous double dates with Quinn hadn't lost interest in him – granted, he'd had to pull sexual favors to get back into their good graces, but the point still stands.

When Friday rolls around, Kurt is unusually nervous about his date. He hadn't been nervous before, but there's a twisting in his stomach from the start of the day until he gets home that night. At first he'd brushed the twisting sensation off as a side effect of the questionable grilled chicken he'd had for lunch – but by the time he's standing in front of his closet, trying to get ready for his date, he has to admit to himself that it's nerves.

What drives him mad is that he's not sure what it is he's nervous about. The thought of Adam doesn't make him nervous – they'd even had a perfectly pleasant conversation via text that morning. Sure, the thought of the double date aspect of things is a little nerve wracking, but the thought doesn't actively make him sick. He's tried on seven different outfits when he realizes that he's not trying to find the perfect outfit to impress Adam – he's trying to find something that'll impress Blaine. The brief flash of Blaine in his mind's eye brings back that twist in his stomach and it all becomes clear – he's nervous about seeing Blaine.

Kurt takes a break from staring at his closet to jog in place, do some jumping jacks, attempt a handstand – anything to get his blood pumping and his mind off of Blaine, the person who is very much **not **his date tonight. He and Blaine had danced around the topic of the double date in their brief text exchanges. They were still trying to sort out a time to meet up again to 'work' on their 'English project' – but weren't able to settle on a time that wasn't taken up by other social obligations.

Kurt finally settles on something simple: a pair of black skinny jeans with a purple and silver accented button down. Not too flashy for somewhere as blah as Breadstix, but still carefully crafted and well put together. He glances at his phone as he begins to gather his things – he'd agreed to meet up with everyone at the restaurant. He has two text messages, one from Adam and one from Blaine.

Adam's text reads _Headed out now! See you in a few :)_

Blaine's reads _I can't wait to see you._

His breath hitches as he stares at the screen in disbelief. Blaine had always been very coy in his texts – they kept their flirtations as subtle as possible. Kurt knew Quinn had a nasty habit of going through her previous boyfriends' phones, and he didn't want to run the risk of being caught in a compromising situation. For a second he wonders if the text was meant for him, maybe Blaine had meant to send it to Quinn. But the message was sent nearly 15 minutes ago, with no follow up apologizing for the mistake. The butterflies in his stomach have taken flight, and he savors the moment for just a little bit longer before deleting the text, to be safe.

* * *

Adam is the first to arrive – already seated at their table by the time Kurt pulls up. Kurt's grateful he's the second to arrive – he doesn't think he could handle Adam and Blaine sitting across a table from one another without himself or Quinn to oversee things. Adam greets him with two kisses on the cheek, which feels very sexy and European, and Kurt blushes as Adam compliments his outfit. They chat for a few minutes about classes and homework until Quinn and Blaine arrive. They stroll up to the table hand in hand, Quinn decked out in a stunning yellow sundress that is far too dressy for Breadstix, but compliments her skin and blonde hair so beautifully he can understand why she wore it. Kurt can tell Quinn has dressed Blaine for the occasion – he's swapped his usual bowtie for a standard tie and a button down instead of a polo. They greet Kurt with hugs – Blaine and Adam shake hands instead and it's only slightly awkward. Quinn and Blaine take their seats across from Kurt and Adam – Quinn relacing her fingers through Blaine's and keeping them linked between them on the table. Kurt does his best not to let his eyes linger on the sight, distracting himself by playing with a salt shaker.

The conversation between Quinn, Kurt, and Adam flows easily. They discuss Adam's transition to life at McKinley. Kurt learns that Adam's father has had to move frequently for business. He's originally from England, but he spent most of his childhood in Singapore, then a bit of time in Chile, and most recently California. Adam is a gifted storyteller – he has Kurt and Quinn eating out of his hand as he describes driving along the golden coast of San Francisco, and the Icelandic hot springs he'd visited during a recent brief stay in Reykjavík.

Blaine is very much not a part of the conversation. He remains silent when both Kurt and Quinn praise Adam's penchant for storytelling and marvel at the wonderful places he's been. He doesn't look unhappy per se, but definitely doesn't look pleased at the amount of attention Adam is getting. Kurt does his best to keep his eyes focused on Adam, not wanting to arouse too much suspicion by casting glances at Blaine across the table. He's mostly successful until he feels the toe of a shoe poking at his calf. He looks away from Adam, who's in the midst of a charming story about how his childhood dog, Paddington, saved his younger cousin from drowning during a family vacation to Ireland. Blaine's eyes are focused intently on Kurt, the toe of his foot gliding down along Kurt's calf. He shoots Blaine a dirty look, shaking his head subtly as he shifts his leg out of Blaine's reach.

It's one thing to make eyes at one another in front of their dates – but it's another to play footsie under the same table as them. Blaine frowns as he watches Kurt shift away from him and turn his attention back to Adam, begrudgingly giving Adam his full attention too.

"The one place I've been dying to get to is Italy though – Milan, specifically," Adam says, finishing off his latest story.

"Kurt is always talking about wanting to go to Italy," Quinn gushes, giving Kurt a knowing wink as she takes a sip of her lemonade.

Sure, Kurt was interested in travelling to Italy. He was interested in travelling anywhere that's not Ohio, really. But he wasn't as keen on traveling to Italy as Quinn made him out to be. Her comment serves its purpose though, Adam turning to Kurt with a shy smile.

"Well, maybe we can visit together sometime," he suggests, cheeks flushed.

"I don't remember Kurt ever saying he wanted to go to Italy," Blaine says suddenly, everyone at the table eyeing him strangely. It's the first real thing he's contributed to the conversation thus far and it's jarring, to say the least. "It just seems like the place you really want to go is Paris," Blaine tacks on. Quinn looks at him in confusion, missing the way Kurt's eyes have narrowed at Blaine.

It's true, Kurt's real dreams were of Paris and New York – New York for theatre, and Paris for fashion. It was one of the many tidbits about themselves they'd exchanged in between kisses that night at his house. He can vividly remember Blaine's lips tickling at the sensitive skin just below his ear asking him question after question.

_"Why don't you stop asking questions and just kiss me?" Kurt had asked, tugging on Blaine's arm._

_"Because I want to know you," he'd replied, placing a soft kiss behind his ear before hovering back over him with a smile._

"How do you know that?" Quinn asks, Adam looking eager for an answer as well.

Blaine shrugs nonchalantly, brushing off Quinn's question with ease. "He mentioned it a bunch of times when we were working on our English project."

Quinn and Adam's attention shifts to Kurt this time. He offers up a nervous laugh and a shrug. "I guess I just have Paris on my mind. But I would love to go to Milan some day." He sets things back on course by turning to Adam with a flirty smile. Adam blushes and it seems all has been mended as they easily move on to a new topic of discussion.

Quinn does her best to try to loop Blaine into the conversation, but he's stubborn as a mule. Adam casually mentions that he's looking for part time work after school so he can save up for a new car. Quinn turns to Blaine with an expectant look – but when he says nothing she takes the lead instead.

"Blaine's mom has some connections at the local animal clinic. They're always looking for new people – she can probably help you out."

But, of course, Blaine says nothing. Or at least not until Quinn elbows him roughly and he comes to his senses.

"Yeah, I can talk to her," Blaine mumbles, keeping his eyes focused on his food.

This minor blip doesn't deter Quinn, though. God bless her, she continues trying.

"Oh, Blaine loves Katy Perry!" Quinn says excitedly when Adam mentions he'd attended one of her concerts two years ago.

Blaine looks up from his garden salad with a weak smile and nods before turning back to his food. Quinn tries to mask her disappointment by prying Blaine for more details.

"Who did you say her opener was?" she asks, nudging her shoulder against Blaine's.

"I don't remember," he mumbles, mindlessly pushing around his food.

An awkward silence settles over the table and Kurt considers kicking Blaine under the table – and nearly does when minutes later Blaine rolls his eyes when Adam compares the color of Kurt's eyes to the ocean. He wants to lean over the table and shake or slap some sense into Blaine – he's practically begging for Quinn to grill him about what's going on with him.

"Can you please excuse us?" Quinn announces before looping her arm through Blaine's and whisking him off towards the bathrooms.

"Is he alright?" Adam asks, leaning over to whisper in Kurt's ear even though Blaine and Quinn are well out of ear shot.

Kurt shrugs. "They've been having some problems in their relationship lately." He's not sure why that's what he comes up with. He's a creative person, he could've come up with dozens of reasons to explain Blaine's behavior. But he pins it all on Quinn, on their relationship. Before he can dwell too long on what his subconscious is trying to tell him, Adam changes the subject.

Quinn and Blaine return moments later, still arm in arm. Blaine appears less somber than he had earlier, and Quinn looks particularly pleased with herself as they slide back into their seats. She excuses their absence and explains that Blaine had been feeling under the weather since that morning.

"I'm sorry to hear that. My grandmother has a wonderful recipe for chicken soup that works wonders - I can send you the recipe if you'd like," Adam offers to Blaine with a cheerful smile.

Kurt can't help but beam at his date – he's not sure if Adam is oblivious to Blaine's attitude or if he's just an optimist, but either way it's refreshing.

"Thanks. I'm fine. It'll pass," Blaine mumbles in response, looking at Adam directly for the first time that entire night to give him a halfhearted smile.

The arrival of their entrees is a blessing in disguise – the conversation settles down as everyone focuses on their food for a couple of minutes. Kurt teases Adam good naturedly for ordering the questionable seafood pasta – Breadstix was known for barely passable Italian food, trying anything more exotic than chicken parmesan was a gamble. Kurt pats Adam on the hand, assuring him that next time he'll make sure he advises him more carefully on what to order. Adam unexpectedly takes Kurt's hand before he can pull away, tentatively lacing their fingers together on the table between them. Kurt muffles a gasp at the gesture, biting back a smile as he looks up at Adam with a rosy cheeks.

For a moment, Kurt's able to push past all of the drama and nerves of the night and focus on just Adam. Adam, who is so incredibly handsome and sweet and interesting and actually wants a real, genuine relationship with Kurt. Adam, who is free of deceit and drama. Adam, who is normal. It's easy in those few moments for Kurt to picture a future with Adam – holding hands in the hallway and cheesy picnic dates in the spring. He is a blank slate – something Kurt desperately needs.

Kurt's brief moment of clarity is short lived as a river of ice cold water comes racing towards them seconds later. Blaine had accidentally dropped the water pitcher while refreshing his glass – soaking mostly Quinn and Adam. Quinn shrieks in surprise as ice water splashes on the skirt of her dress, excusing herself to the restroom to try and dry herself off. Adam laughs off the incident, oblivious to any ulterior motives Blaine may have had, and wipes off the seat of his pants with a smile. It takes all of Kurt's willpower not to reach across the table and strangle Blaine.

It feels like hours until they finally get to dessert. Kurt has taken to completely ignoring Blaine and focusing all of his attention on Adam instead. If Blaine wants to act like a petulant child then that's fine, but Kurt's not going to let it ruin his evening any longer. He and Adam share a slice of cheesecake for dessert, feeding one another and stealing flirty looks in between bites. Quinn struggles to get Blaine to take a single bite of their carrot cake, finally resorting to stabbing him not-so-discreetly with her fork. She whispers something out of the corner of her mouth when Blaine lets out a yelp of pain. Whatever she says works, as he takes a bite of the cake with a frown.

Quinn is satisfied by Blaine's attempt at making amends and settles back into her seat calmly. She loops her arm through Blaine's and rests her head on his shoulder as she feeds him the last remaining bites of their cake. Adam does his best at a suave attempt to wrap an arm around Kurt that isn't very subtle, but effective nonetheless. Kurt happily settles into the warm weight of Adam's arm around his shoulders, the adoring look the other boy is giving him making him warm down to his toes.

Blaine and Adam argue over who should pay, but Blaine ultimately wins after Quinn insists that the double date was her idea, so she and Blaine will foot the bill this time. They say their goodbyes to one another in the parking lot – Kurt giving Blaine a very stiff hug before they part ways.

"I had a really nice time tonight," Adam says sheepishly as he walks Kurt back to his car.

"I did too," Kurt replies. It was arguably the most stressful date he'd ever been on, but Adam had been perfect. "We should do it again sometime. Maybe without the crowd," he adds with a roll of his eyes.

Adam laughs softly and nods in agreement. His eyes flash down to his shoes before he looks up at Kurt and leans in slowly. Kurt meets him halfway, leaning in quickly to press their lips together. It's soft and sweet – very chaste for a first kiss. There aren't mind blowing sparks or tingles in his belly, but he can't say that it isn't nice. When they pull apart Adam looks as though he's been rattled, his eyes blown and cheeks pink.

"Wow," he murmurs breathlessly.

Kurt wishes he felt the same way.

* * *

Everyone but Kurt appears unphased by the disastrousness of the evening's double date. Adam texts him goodnight and that he really hopes they can find time to see each other again, Quinn texts him thanking him for a lovely evening, and Blaine says nothing at all. He's the one person Kurt wants to hear from, but there's radio silence. He wonders if Quinn accompanied him home after their date, if she's cuddled up safe and warm in his arms, none the wiser to the drama unfolding all around her.

To make matters worse, Kurt's streak of keeping his romances under wraps from his dad had crumbled to pieces – all thanks to Finn Hudson. Burt and Carole had mutually agreed to make Sunday Hummel-Hudson family dinners a regular occurence, much to the annoyance of their respective sons. Finn complained that the meals Kurt prepared never had any flavor – thanks to Kurt's carefully constructed diet for his dad. Carole had reprimanded him for being so selfish, but Finn continued to make his dislike of Kurt's cooking very clear, leading to them frequenting the Hudson home more often, where Carole would prepare heart healthy meals for herself, Burt, and Kurt, and more teenage boy appropriate meals for Finn (primarily frozen chicken nuggets and grilled cheese).

Burt brought up Kurt's unusually good mood at the dinner table the Sunday following the double date fiasco. "So what's got you smiling so much this week, Kurt?" he asks.

Kurt remains silent, pushing aimlessly at his mashed potatoes and peas as he tries not to think about whether or not he should text Blaine to talk about what had happened.

"He went on a date with some British guy yesterday," Finn says around a mouthful of turkey (the only non-frozen meat he deems edible).

Kurt's head snaps up, his grip around his fork tightening as he glares at Finn. How had he known about his double date? Burt and Carole each perk up at the news, Carole looking excited and Burt uneasy.

"A date, huh?" Burt says, setting down his fork and turning his full attention to his son.

"It was just a double date with Quinn and Blaine, that's all," Kurt mumbles, his cheeks aflame at the sudden influx of attention on him.

"If things get serious with that guy we may have to adjust your curfew rules, you know that, Kurt," Burt warns.

Burt had made it very clear shortly after Kurt had joined the Cheerio's that if he were to become romantically involved with someone that things would begin to change – he'd have a tighter curfew, an open door policy, no sleepovers without confirmation from a friend's parent. Kurt's previous flings had all been kept relatively under wraps – he had always made sure to keep them out of the house whenever his dad was around, and none of them had ever gotten serious enough to even bring up the possibility of introducing them to his dad. Besides a painfully awkward 'you matter' talk during Kurt's junior year after one of the freshmen Cheerio's dropped out because of an unexpected pregnancy, he had managed to successfully keep his dad in the dark about all of his romantic endeavors… until now.

"It was just one date, it's not a big deal," Kurt replies bitterly.

"I'm just saying, you can't be sneaking around with this guy," Burt tacks on, Kurt groaning in frustration and burying his head in his hands as his blush spread tenfold.

It was bad enough Kurt had to deal with Finn being in his house intermittently throughout the week, 'bonding' with his dad, but now he had to worry about Finn spilling details about his personal life too. Kurt makes a mental note to corner Finn at school the following day and threaten him to keep his mouth shut – he could bribe him with fried chicken, or something else equally idiotic.

* * *

After a chaotic weekend all Kurt wants is a peaceful, drama free week at school – but even that is too much to ask. Within minutes of his arrival on Monday morning Adam appears at his side, grinning and blushing at the mere sight of Kurt.

"Good morning," he greets, knocking his shoulder against Kurt's.

"Good morning. You're weirdly chipper for a Monday morning," Kurt replies, taking a long sip of his coffee as he slows his usual morning pace to match Adam's.

"I was looking forward to seeing you," Adam says, and Kurt can't help but smile. He's sweet and adorable and god, Kurt wishes he had met him just a few months earlier. "I was hoping we could talk about trying to find time for a second date… if that's something you want to do, I mean," he tacks on, suddenly blushing furiously.

Kurt laughs, leaning in and giving Adam a chaste kiss on the cheek. "Yes, that's something I want," he assures, and Adam's smile is bright enough to light up the whole school.

The subtle display of affection manages to capture the attention of those around them – a few students reaching for their phones to snap photos of the new, unexpected pair.

"Should we be concerned?" Adam asks as he looks around warily at the cellphones pointed their way.

Kurt sighs as he rolls his eyes and shoos their audience away – they scatter instantly at the wave of his hand. "No. Just people with nothing better to do than speculate about other people's lives."

Kurt's positive that their mundane moment will be front page news for the school's weekly gossip rag, The McKinley Muckraker. Jacob Ben Israel, McKinley's wannabe Ryan Seacrest, has been dying to run a juicy story about Kurt for the past year, but had never been able to dig up any dirt. Kurt is exceptionally talented when it comes to keeping his own secrets hidden. But Kurt refuses to pay them any mind, and returns to the more pressing matter at hand.

"My schedule is pretty packed this week – the football team has two away games that we have to cheer for," Kurt says with a frown. "Think you could find some time for me on Wednesday?"

This time it's Adam's turn to frown. "I have Glee rehearsal on Wednesdays."

Kurt pouts, running his fingers along Adam's suspenders as he looks up at him with a sultry smile. "Think you can skip it?"

"I don't think so… I'm still so new, and I think Rachel Berry would bite my head off if I missed a rehearsal so early on."

Kurt rolls his eyes. Leave it to Rachel Berry to join the ever-growing list of people keeping his love life from flourishing. He bites his lip as he carefully considers his response.

"You could come sit at our table at lunch," Kurt offers, his voice uncharacteristically timid. Inviting someone to sit at the Cheerio lunch table is an honor like no other. It's an honor that's typically reserved for McKinley's elite, and the occasional outsiders are usually significant others. Kurt's sure Adam doesn't grasp the significance of the invitation, but he's confident Adam will do well with the in crowd. He's handsome and interesting and well-spoken, unlike the majority of McKinley's population. He'll be a breath of fresh air.

"I'd like that," Adam replies quickly. "I'll see you then."

Adam heads off to class with a grin that Kurt can't resist returning. He's excited about the prospect of Adam joining him for lunch for the whole morning, until he arrives at his usual table to the sight of Blaine and Quinn feeding each other bites of fruit salad. Blaine looks to be in better spirits, laughing and giggling as Quinn fails to catch a grape he tossed at her in her mouth. They're as sickeningly cute as they've always been – but Kurt has seen the cracks in their facade and now he can't forget them. He knows they're not what they once were – the perfect couple, with eyes only for one another.

"I invited Adam to sit with us," Kurt announces as he sets down his tray and takes his usual place.

Quinn and Brittany coo at the news, Santana ignores him and keeps her attention on her phone. "Can I ask him to say the pledge of allegiance? I want to hear someone with a funny voice say it," Brittany asks with wide, excited eyes.

"Sure," Kurt replies with an uneasy smile.

"Is there enough room for him? We're already pretty tight," Blaine says, gesturing to the lack of available seating at their table.

He's right, which, while annoying, doesn't arouse any suspicion from the others. "I can handle this," Santana says, finally looking up from her phone. "Puckerman, leave," she commands.

Puck looks up from his plate of chicken nuggets in confusion. "What? Why?"

"We need to make room and you're taking up enough space for two people. Adios," she says with a wave of her hand.

Puck looks as though he's going to protest until Santana runs one of her ruby red claws along her neck in warning. Puck swallows hard as he gathers up his things and is out of sight in the blink of an eye.

Adam arrives at their table with perfect timing, sliding into the seat Puck has now vacated, greeting everyone with a cheerful wave. Quinn, now seated directly beside Adam, abandons her canoodling with Blaine in favor of turning to their new visitor. Likewise, Brittany eagerly shifts her seat closer to Adam.

"Adam has the most amazing stories. You should tell the others about when you went swimming with sharks in French Polynesia," Quinn suggests.

Kurt leans over towards them, intending to protest, only for Quinn to land a swift kick to his shin under the table, knocking him into silence. Adam, humble as ever, tries to brush off Quinn's suggestion by mumbling that the story isn't as interesting as it seems – but even Santana's interest has become piqued. They pry for details and soon the entire table is enraptured by Adam's stories of his travels.

The group takes to Adam quickly and painlessly – almost the same way they had with Blaine months earlier. Brittany is already charmed by Adam's accent, but is even more elated when he agrees to come on her talk show and read the phone book. Even Santana is impressed when Adam is able to have a full five-minute conversation with her in Spanish. She admonishes his accent but praises his vocabulary, which he happily accepts. Kurt watches everyone fawn over Adam, preening as Adam sends him flirty looks and smiles every chance he can.

Blaine, on the other hand, looks as though he's going to be sick. No one is paying him any mind – not even Quinn, who is equally drawn in by Adam's charisma as everyone else. Blaine doesn't even try to fight for her attention, or Kurt's for that matter. Kurt casts wary glances at him out of the corner of his eye and sees how sullen and withdrawn he's become. Just like the date at Breadstix he's the only one not participating in the conversation, and he's not making any attempts to hide his displeasure with the situation. But at least he's remaining silent this time, keeping his thoughts to himself.

Towards the end of lunch, Kurt casts a glance at Blaine that isn't as discrete as he'd thought – their eyes meet across the table and Kurt goes rigid in his seat. They remain silent, eyes boring into one another until the sound of the bell signaling the end of the period snaps them back to reality.

The spell Adam has cast over the table is broken as everyone begins to gather their things and head off to class. Quinn gives Blaine a chaste goodbye peck before heading off to class with Santana. Brittany insists on walking with Adam to their shared biology class – looping her arm through his and clinging to him before he can protest. Adam shoots an apologetic look Kurt's way, mouthing "I'll text you" before he's whisked away. Kurt and Blaine awkwardly shuffle around one another as they pack up their things. The silence between them weighs heavy on Kurt – it makes his heart race and his head pound and he's seconds away from saying anything just to break the silence when Blaine does it for him.

"Can we work on our English project tonight?" he asks, eyes full of fear and hope.

Kurt isn't sure what to say. He trips over his words as he struggles to both reply and interpret the meaning behind Blaine's words at the same time.

"Y-yeah, sure. My place after practice?"

Blaine nods and is off to his next class before Kurt can say anything else. The rest of the day might as well be cancelled – Kurt can't focus on anything for more than a few minutes at a time. The second his mind has the opportunity to wander it does, and it always goes back to Blaine. He fluctuates from angry and upset to worried and nervous in a span of seconds. He wants to tell Blaine off for acting like a tantrum throwing toddler because Kurt's finally given him a taste of his own medicine. At the same time he wants to pull Blaine close and ask him if he means as much to him as he does to Kurt. Even after all of their hours spent together behind closed doors, Blaine is still as much of an enigma as the day he stepped into Kurt's life. Blaine is a pool of uncertainty and Kurt has finally realized that he's drowning.

* * *

Kurt knows that this after school meeting won't be anything like their previous rendezvous. Quinn runs up to Blaine after practice and asks him if he'll indulge her in a last minute frozen yogurt date, but he lets her down easy and explains that he has a project to work on – but promises to swing by her place once he's finished. As far as Kurt knows, his dad doesn't have any plans with Carole for the night so he'll likely be back at 5pm, like clockwork.

It's not a plan for a romantic clandestine meeting – he's not sure what it's supposed to be at all. Things are tense from the moment they leave practice. Kurt offers Blaine something to drink but he shakes his head no. They silently tread down to Kurt's bedroom and sit on opposite sides of the room – Blaine at the desk and Kurt cross-legged on his bed. They have notebooks open in front of them but continue to let the silence stretch on. Blaine's fingers are twisting together anxiously on his lap, his eyes focused away from Kurt. Kurt watches Blaine for what feels like an hour until he finally finds the strength to speak up.

"What're we doing here?" he asks. It's a multi layered question – it could have dozens of answers. He's not sure where he wants Blaine to begin.

Blaine takes his time responding. A full minute passes before he finally looks Kurt in the eye and replies.

"I don't like seeing you with him. Adam."

"Mm. Probably as much as I don't like still having to see you with Quinn," Kurt snaps back. He doesn't hold back, his words are harsh and biting – he's been waiting too long to give Blaine a piece of his mind.

"Kurt, I'm trying to be honest with you. There's something about him, he just… seems phony," Blaine pleads, wrinkling his nose at the mere thought of Adam.

"That doesn't sound like honesty, it sounds like jealousy."

Blaine lets out a frustrated sigh, running his hand through his hair.

"You don't have a right to be jealous," Kurt adds firmly.

This throws Blaine over the edge, he throws his hands up as he rockets out of his seat. "So you're the only person who's allowed to have feelings?!"

"No!" Kurt shouts back, storming up and towards Blaine, poking a finger into his chest. "You don't get to be upset when I have had to stand by and watch you lie right to Quinn's face for a month! You don't get to be upset that I'm doing something for my own happiness instead of waiting for you - you don't!" Tears beginning to stream down his cheeks as he finally lets out every bit of rage he's kept bottled up inside of him. It feels like a wave washing him clean of the guilt and the jealousy he'd felt every time he had to watch Quinn kiss Blaine goodbye or their interlocked hands swinging between them as they through the halls.

"I never asked you to wait for me!" Blaine shouts back, his cheeks fire red and tears beginning to form in the corner of his eyes too. "If it matters to you so much why haven't you told Quinn the truth yourself? Isn't she your best friend?!"

Kurt gasps and takes a step away from Blaine, stung by his words. It's true, he can't deny that – but the truth hurts more than he'd expected. The thought of telling Quinn the truth himself is terrifying. He can so easily picture her emerald eyes glossing over with tears, the way her shoulders will shake as she sobs and crumples in on herself. He's been there for her every time she's broken down over the past three years, he knows just what she needs to pick herself back up again. But what would he do when it was his fault that she'd fallen apart?

Kurt can't find the right words to respond. He's still unbelievably mad at Blaine, but he's mad at himself now too. He's angry with himself for being such a coward, and for being so weak willed that he let himself be so passive in all of this. Kurt Hummel is headstrong, determined, and ambitious – but now all he feels like is a phony. Instead of replying, he collapses back onto the edge of his bed, covering his face with his hands and letting himself sob openly.

He feels the bed dip beside him and his body urges him to push Blaine away when he feels the other boys arms around him, but he resists. Kurt can feel the tears streaking Blaine's own cheeks when he leans in to press a soft kiss to the side of Kurt's head.

"I'm so sorry," he whispers against him – Kurt just sobs even harder.

Blaine squeezes Kurt's shoulder and he finally allows himself to melt into Blaine's arms, turning himself to rest his cheek on Blaine's shoulder. Blaine's palm runs soothing circles along Kurt's back, the other holding him close. Kurt sobs and sobs until his tears soak through through Blaine's t-shirt.

When the urge to sob has finally subsided and he's able to take in deep breaths without cracking, he slowly pulls away from the cover of Blaine's shoulder. It's the most vulnerable he's ever been with another boy – eyes red rimmed and puffy, cheeks rubbed raw from scrubbing at his tears.

"I never meant for any of this to happen," Blaine says softly, taking Kurt's face in his hands and tenderly rubbing away the last remaining streaks of tears on his cheeks. "I never wanted to hurt you, and I'm so, so sorry, Kurt."

"You're so complicated… I just wanted something easy," Kurt mumbles, eyes downcast.

"I know… I get that. And I'm sorry for the way I've acted. Like I said I just… don't know how to act when I'm around you." It's not an excuse for Blaine's behavior, but Kurt believes him when he says that he's sorry. Blaine takes Kurt's hand in his and places a gentle kiss to his knuckles. The simple gesture makes Kurt smile – so much of Blaine makes him smile.

"Are you going to tell her?" Kurt asks, his voice still cracked raw and sore.

Blaine nods, shifting his gaze down to their locked fingers. "Soon."

"Soon isn't an answer," Kurt replies, worried that they'll just end up in the same situation they were in moments earlier – dancing around the truth, waiting for a 'soon' that's never going to come.

"She's going on a trip with her parents in two weeks. I want to tell her when she gets back," Blaine says firmly. "She's been through so much these past few months, and the only thing she's had to look forward to is this trip. I want her to at least have that – a trip without worrying about me and what the truth will do to her reputation and all the other stupid, trivial things that this kind of baggage comes with."

The certainty in Blaine's voice and the introduction of an actual, concrete date puts Kurt at ease. Blaine has a plan, one he's clearly thought over. It's not perfect, but it's a hell of a lot better than nothing.

"I can wait two weeks." A small, shy smile plays at the corners of Kurt's lips.

"It's okay if you don't want to. I understand if you'd rather… be with him," Blaine admits shyly.

In place of replying Kurt leans forward and captures Blaine's lips with his. He can hear Blaine inhale sharply at the unexpected kiss, but he still leans in and reciprocates eagerly.

"I'll let him down easy," Kurt says once they break apart.

Blaine grins, running his thumb along the apple of Kurt's cheek before kissing him again, and again.

"I like you a lot. More than I've ever liked anyone," he mumbles against Kurt's lips in between kisses.

Kurt stills, biting back a smile. "I like you a lot too." It's an understatement. Blaine makes him feel things so white hot and blindingly wonderful he worries he'll spontaneously combust. Everything about Blaine should feel wrong and terrible, but it doesn't. Being with Blaine makes him feel things he didn't think he was capable of feeling.

With their tears dried and confessions made, they focus on the more important matter at hand: kissing and trying to touch as much of one another as possible. Kurt straddles Blaine's lap, kissing along his jaw. Blaine's fingertips trace delicate patterns along the knobs of Kurt's spine before settling on his hips. Their kisses have evolved once again – they're more practiced now, they know what the other wants and craves without asking or hesitating. They move together seamlessly, so in tune with one another they can anticipate the other's next move. When Blaine moves to pull Kurt's shirt from the waistband of his pants, Kurt's fingers go right to his belt buckle. Seconds after Blaine is free from his under shirt he flips Kurt over without a single stumble or misstep, peeling him out of his jeans at record speed.

When they're pressed bare skin to bare skin they pause for a moment. Blaine's palm is on Kurt's chest – Kurt's heart pounding just beneath Blaine's fingertips. "I want everything with you," Blaine whispers, his lips pressed to Kurt's neck.

"Really?" Kurt asks in disbelief. Blaine can feel how nervous he is, can feel the quickening pace of his heart beneath him.

"If that's okay with you," Blaine replies, trailing his lips slowly along the column of Kurt's neck before pulling up to press a kiss to his lips.

"Yeah, of course. I just… you've never done this before, right?" Kurt places his hand against Blaine's chest, gently keeping him at bay until they've finished talking things through.

Blaine shakes his head, shifting uncomfortably. "Is that a problem?"

"No, no, of course not," Kurt quickly reassures, pressing a quick kiss to the corner of Blaine's mouth for good measure. "I-I… Are you sure?"

"Yeah… I want it to be with you."

Kurt nods in understanding, peppering featherlight kisses along Blaine's jaw until he can feel his body begin to relax against his. Once Blaine is loose and warm beneath his fingertips Kurt lets him take the lead. Despite his inexperience, Blaine is able to take control of things easily. He kisses Kurt over and over, pressing their interlocked fingers into the mattress as they grow breathless and warm. Kurt breaks their rhythm for a moment to grab lube and a condom from the drawer of his bedside table, tossing it just off to the side and hoping it doesn't spook Blaine. But it doesn't. The sight of it sends Blaine into high gear – he pins Kurt back down to the bed and bites and licks and sucks and kisses the breath out of him.

Moments later, when Blaine pulls off of Kurt's cock with a pop and drags a lube slick finger along his hole Kurt jolts in surprise. It's certainly not unwelcome – though not the direction he thought things would go. Blaine is a natural leader – he senses Kurt's surprise and pulls his finger back and kisses Kurt's neck and collarbone until he feels him relax before trying again. It's not long before Kurt becomes putty in Blaine's hand, moaning and writhing as one finger turns to two which turns to three.

There's no care for discretion or keeping things quiet as Blaine slides on the condom and slicks up his own cock. Kurt is a whimpering mess, moaning shamelessly at the blunt pressure of Blaine against him. He pushes in all in one swift movement and Kurt cries out as his fingernails dig shallow cuts into the taut skin of Blaine's back. It's too much all at once and yet it's so perfect he can't find the will to slow things down. Every nerve ending and every sense is in overload as Blaine's hips slowly drag out and pound back in.

Just when it feels as though they've settled into a rhythm – Kurt's hips leaning up to meet each of Blaine's thrusts – Kurt is being flipped over once again. Blaine lays back against the headboard, holding Kurt steady at the waist as he fucks up into him. Kurt falters for a moment, overwhelmed by how much deeper Blaine's cock is able to go at this angle. He falls forward slightly, resting his hands on Blaine's shoulders to anchor himself. Blaine rests his forehead against Kurt's – their noses brushing and breath intermingling as they moan against each other's lips.

"Holy shit," Blaine murmurs when Kurt takes back control, rocking himself back on Blaine's cock. Blaine sucks hard against Kurt's neck, biting down roughly when the pleasure becomes too much. Kurt knows he's leaving a bruise in his wake but can't find it in him to care.

Kurt is the first to come. When Blaine feels himself growing close he reaches between them and begins to pump Kurt's cock in time with each thrust. The touch is unexpected, and Kurt's cock is so achingly desperate for any type of contact that he comes moments later. Blaine follows soon after, unable to hold himself back as he's consumed by the blissful sensation of Kurt tightening around him as his orgasm crashes over him. They each cry out the others name when their peak hits, collapsing against one another in a sweaty pile of limbs.

"You're so beautiful," Blaine says in between gasps for breath, his hand coming up to cup Kurt's jaw and pull him in for a dirty sweet kiss.

"That's what they all say until the morning after," Kurt teases playfully.

Blaine doesn't quite grasp that Kurt's joking, looking up at him with concerned eyes. "I mean it."

Kurt pauses, smiling at Blaine and kissing him tenderly before replying. "I know you do."


	9. Chapter 9

Kurt is kiss-warm and loose limbed as he throws on an oversized t-shirt to grab himself and Blaine some water from the kitchen. It's difficult to pry himself away from Blaine's wandering hands, pulling him in and begging him for just one more kiss, but they're both still winded and out of breath and some hydration will do them both good. He pads up to the kitchen without a care in the world, skin still buzzing just below the surface. He grabs two water bottles and turns to head back to his room, only to freeze at the sight of his dad at the kitchen table. His arms are crossed and it's clear from the look on his face that he's not pleased. Kurt doesn't have time to worry about the hickey on the side of his neck or his pink, swollen lips – he knows he's been caught.

"You're home early," is all Kurt is able to say. He throws in a nervous laugh but Burt doesn't see the humor in the situation.

"Pretty hard to relax after a long day of work when I have to listen to my son wail like a hyena for almost an hour."

Kurt goes fire engine red under his father's disappointed gaze. He rubs his hand along his neck, covering up the bruise in a half-hearted attempt at retaining some level of modesty. "I'm sorry, it won't happen again."

"Oh it _definitely_ won't happen again. You're grounded," Burt says sternly.

"What?! But I've only been un-grounded for two weeks!" Kurt protests. He'd expected a slap on the wrist and his curfew to be tightened, but not a full on grounding.

"Well maybe if you weren't breaking house rules every week you wouldn't be grounded so often," Burt says with an unsympathetic shrug.

Kurt wants so badly to argue against everything his dad just said, but he's really not in a position to do so.

"Fine," he mutters, turning on his heel to stomp back to his room when his dad suddenly blocks his path.

"And I want to meet this guy, Adam or whatever his name is, who you claimed wasn't a big deal," Burt tacks on, crossing his arms.

"Great, I'll have him pencil us in next week," Kurt replies sarcastically, trying to sneak past Burt, but his path is blocked once again.

"Not next week, now. He's a guest in my house and I expect him to be respectful and introduce himself to me."

Kurt's blood runs cold and the hairs on his arms stand on end. He does his best not to look as panicked as he feels, but his dad is already giving him a suspicious look. His mind races as he attempts to come up with a Bond level escape plan for Blaine, along with a lie that his dad won't see through immediately. Unfortunately, Kurt's penchant for easily detecting when someone is lying was something he'd inherited from his dad.

"He already left," is all Kurt comes up with. It's not the best excuse he's ever come up with, but he prays that it'll do the trick.

"Then why do you have two water bottles?"

Fuck. Kurt visibly winces as he glances down at the two bottles in his hands. "I'm really thirsty," is his response, and it's the most pathetic lie he's ever told.

Burt either takes pity on his son, or decides he's over trying to play this game of cat and mouse with his son's secret boyfriend. He rolls his eyes, making it clear that he doesn't believe a word of what Kurt's saying, but steps away from the doorframe, clearing a path for Kurt.

"Bring him to Sunday night dinner. And until I meet him, he's not allowed back in this house. Do you understand?"

"Yes," Kurt answers quickly before bolting off at top speed back to his room.

Kurt slams his bedroom door shut the moment he reaches the safety of his room, tossing Blaine his water bottle with too much force. The bottle smacks Blaine on the side of the head and completely ruins any of the lingering sensual mood.

"I hate to be that guy, but I'm going to need you to leave through the window," Kurt pleads, already beginning to get dressed into something more appropriate. His dad had seemingly given him a pass despite his obvious lying, but he doesn't trust that Burt won't try to come down and ambush him and 'Adam' anyway.

"What? Why?" Blaine asks nervously, sitting up straight and glancing around him, as though Quinn is about to jump out of the closet and spook them.

"Because the universe hates me and made my dad come home just in time to listen to me have obnoxiously noisy sex with who he, thankfully, thinks is my new British boyfriend." Once he's pulled on a pair of yoga pants, he makes his way over to the window, standing on top of his desk to get at the lock.

"I think I have a solid British accent," Blaine says with a cheeky grin as he pulls on his jeans, throwing in a _hallo mat_e for proof.

"While I would love to watch you make an ass out of yourself, he already knows who you are. So, unless you want to explain why you're stepping out on your girlfriend with me, it's out the window." Kurt finally manages to undo the latch on the window, throwing it open and seating himself on the edge of the desk, watching Blaine expectantly.

Blaine looks amused by the entire situation at hand, not doing a very good job of biting back his laughter as he finishes pulling on the rest of his clothes. He's still all giggles and wandering hands, reaching for Kurt as he gathers up his clothing, trying to sneak in a kiss or two, only to be pushed away each time. Kurt snaps his fingers at him, urging him to move more quickly. The last thing he needs is for his dad to walk in on them.

Blaine steps up to the desk and pulls Kurt in for a parting kiss that makes his body tingle from tip to toe. Kurt nearly slips back under Blaine's spell and considers pulling him back in for more, but holds his ground and watches as Blaine pulls himself up and out of the window.

"See you later?" Blaine asks once he's safely outside.

"See you later," Kurt replies, waving Blaine away before he can get caught.

* * *

Kurt's not sure what it is, but something between him and Blaine shifts in the days following that night. It's as though a floodgate's been opened. Though their schedules are still as packed as ever, they manage to find time for each other – whether it be just a couple of minutes or an hour. They meet in dusty storage closets, out of order shower stalls, and occasionally the backseat of Kurt's car (safe behind the privacy of his tinted windows). They kiss messily, frantically, slow, sweet, tender, and everything in between. Sometimes they go further, but not often all that much further. They're being reckless as it is, if they keep pushing their luck they'll wind up with an arrest warrant for public indecency on their heads – or at the very least detention every week for the rest of the year.

The looming reveal of their secrets to Quinn should be nerve wracking and terrifying – and for brief flashes it is. But mostly, Kurt feels a strange calm at the thought of coming clean. He and Blaine don't discuss the logistics of things yet, and whether this means they'll make whatever it is they have together public to anyone else. They choose to live in the moment instead. They enjoy each other, being around one another and kissing until they're vibrating for more.

They text more, but are careful to keep things light and subtle – they save the real saucy stuff for in person conversation. They talk more too, about their interests and school and their plans for the future. Blaine grins as he watches Kurt monologue about his dreams of New York and Broadway. Kurt's confident that his status as co-captain of the Cheerio's will garner him several bonus points on his college applications, along with an already solid resume, but he has a backup plan just to be safe. He'll drive to New York anyway and find any work he can, anything that'll pay rent, and work his ass off until he gets what he wants. It's an idealistic backup plan – he knows well enough how expensive it is to live in New York, and accepts that he'll likely have to live 45 minutes from the city with 3-4 roommates if he doesn't want to have to pay an arm and a leg. But it's his little dream, and it's what keeps him going.

"I can see you fitting in in New York. You have a very aloof 'I'm better than you' thing going already," Blaine teases, wrapping an arm around Kurt and pulling him in close. They're nestled together in the backseat of Kurt's car – they only have a few minutes left before they have to part ways so Kurt can get home in time, but they savour each one.

"What about you? Any big post-college plans?" Kurt asks, tracing mindless patterns along Blaine's thigh.

"Not really. My parents really want me to major in something science related, but I don't think I have the grades for it. New York's always been an appealing idea. Anywhere that isn't here…"

Kurt glances up at Blaine. He doesn't want to get his hopes up, and they certainly don't have to have that conversation now – but the thought of Blaine in New York makes him excited. He's amazed by how easily the image of Blaine is able to slot into all of his visions of New York, as though he's always belonged there. He doesn't let himself indulge any further than harmless fantasies – instead he pulls Blaine down and kisses every inch of him he can reach.

* * *

The Adam aspect of things is complicated. Kurt does his best to keep things between them light and noncommittal. They go on another coffee date because Kurt feels guilty putting it off after expressing so much interest in Adam just a few days prior. It's casual, but still fun and just a tad bit flirty (Kurt can't help it, Adam's charisma levels are off the charts). They part ways in the parking lot with another chaste goodbye kiss – though Adam does try to make a move to take things to a less chaste level, but Kurt keeps him at bay.

To make things more complicated, Adam becomes a more permanent fixture at Kurt's lunch table. His first impression was such a roaring success that everyone is in outrage when Adam doesn't appear the next day for lunch. So Kurt extends the invitation for the following afternoon, and Santana extends the invitation indefinitely. Blaine, thankfully, is able to maintain his composure around Adam now. He's not overly warm and friendly, but they can at least hold a conversation without Blaine looking as though he's going to be ill. Blaine doesn't really have any choice in the matter – Quinn is over the moon about Adam and quickly makes it a point to invite him to several of their group outings.

The problem with Adam's growing popularity is the attention it brings to their budding relationship. Kurt had already had to deal with fielding questions from Quinn, Santana, and Brittany about how things are going with Adam – but, just as he suspected, an article in the McKinley Muckraker spreads the news about them like wildfire. Kurt insists that there's no news to be spread, he and Adam are just enjoying each other's company. Quinn pushes Kurt for an answer as to why he refuses to take things further or make them official. Much to Kurt's surprise, Santana joins in on Quinn's pestering.

"Let's stop pretending like this guy isn't the finest catch you're going to see in this cowtown for the next forty years. Just seal the deal before it gets stale," Santana urges while they stretch before Cheerio's practice.

"I don't want to rush into things. I'm dealing with a lot right now," Kurt says in an attempt to brush her off.

"Like what? What color highlights you're going to get next month?" Santana snaps back with a snicker.

"First of all – how dare you, I don't highlight my hair. Second – since when are you the ambassador for monogamy?"

"Since you found yourself a guy who doesn't make me want to rip my hair out after ten seconds of conversation."

Kurt remains silent and focuses on stretching down to touch his toes. He's not sure how long he's going to be able to fight off their concerns. They've never meddled this much in his relationship before. He's also not sure how they'll take the news when the time comes to break things off with Adam. He hopes that the split will be peaceful and he and Adam can remain friends – but there's no guarantee that his friends will take things easily. His body becomes uncomfortably warm at the mere thought of the coals they'll roast him over once they find out why.

"If you two become boyfriends does it mean you get to meet the Queen?" Brittany asks as she pulls herself back up from a bridge.

Kurt sighs. "No, it doesn't. Sorry, Brit."

"That's okay. I like him anyway," she replies brightly before cartwheeling away.

Kurt sighs once again and flops onto the grass behind him. Santana shoots him a questioning look, but before she can say anything, Coach Sue stomps over to them.

"We don't win championships by taking naps, Porcelain!" she shouts at him through her megaphone, making everyone within a five foot radius' ears ring. "Now take a lap!"

Kurt wants to groan but knows it'll just get him another set of laps. He pulls himself back up, brushes off his uniform and heads to the track without complaint. He tells himself it's the universe's way of punishing him for his misdeeds.

* * *

The biggest surprise comes a week later. The final deadline for Kurt and Blaine's English project approaches and Kurt is able to swing a time for them to meet at his house to finish things. His father doesn't suspect anything, and agrees that the 'no guests' aspect of his grounding can be lifted to accommodate Blaine for the evening. They work at the dining room table, as out in the open as they can be. Kurt's dad isn't home yet, so they allow themselves a few stolen kisses. They've nearly made it to the conclusion when Blaine suddenly goes quiet.

"I have an idea," he finally says.

"A project related idea? Because it's kind of late for those," Kurt says, raising an eyebrow and gesturing towards the stack of papers scattered across the table.

"No, no, an… us related idea," he replies with growing excitement, reaching out and taking Kurt's hand in his.

Kurt's interest is peaked – he gently squeezes Blaine's hand, signaling him to continue.

"My dad and I were supposed to go on a weekend trip to visit Oberlin, but he just found out he's going to be on call that weekend. He still wants me to check out the campus, so he said I could invite a friend along instead."

Kurt raises an eyebrow. "Won't they be suspicious if you don't invite Quinn?"

Blaine laughs, ducking his head shyly. "They're pretty easy going, but I don't think they're going to let me spend a weekend in an Airbnb they paid for, unsupervised, with my girlfriend."

Kurt hums in intrigue as he mulls things over. It's certainly a tempting offer – more than tempting, really. He's already trying to figure out a way to convince his dad to let him go before he gives Blaine an answer.

"A secretive weekend away in the romantic city of Oberlin, huh?" Kurt teases, resting his chin his hand.

Blaine blushes an even darker shade of red, releasing Kurt's hand and shifting away defensively. "I-I just… thought it would be nice to spend some time together."

Kurt frowns, seeing that he's inadvertently hurt Blaine's feelings. He shifts in closer to Blaine, reaching out and taking both of his hands. "Hey." Blaine peeks up at him. "I think it's an amazing idea," he reassures, leaning in and kissing Blaine until he can feel him smiling into the kiss.

Convincing Burt to let Kurt go with Blaine to Oberlin is surprisingly not as difficult as they'd both thought. Kurt delicately approaches the subject, asking his dad when he knows he's guaranteed to be in a good mood: after Monday Night Football, when he's relaxed on the couch with a beer. He's made sure that he's been on his best behavior, even engaging Carole in an extended conversation about what types of dresses would be most flattering for her figure when she stops by for post-date drinks one night.

All Kurt is able to say is, "Hey, Dad," before Burt lets out a drawn out sigh and turns to Kurt with an exasperated look.

"If you're asking me to lift your grounding the answer is no."

Kurt's fingers curl into fists as he struggles to bite his tongue. The urge to snark back is strong, but he puts on a brave face. "That's not what I'm here to ask about."

Burt turns down the TV and turns to face his son, though it's clear from his expression that he's expecting the worst.

"Blaine was supposed to visit Oberlin with his dad over the weekend, but he found out he can't go. So, he invited me to go instead."

Kurt picks at his nails nervously as he watches his dad ponder his request. "Blaine as in Quinn's boyfriend Blaine?" Burt asks with a quirked eyebrow.

"Yes."

Burt rubs his chin in thought, groaning as he settles back against the couch. "It's a tentative yes, but I want to talk to his parents first to make sure you two aren't up to anything."

Kurt doesn't say anything more, just bites back an excited squeal and nods in understanding. He races back to his room to text Blaine and let him know, and Blaine happily agrees to set up a time for their parents to talk. Burt chats with Blaine's dad, Tom, the following morning and agrees to letting Kurt tag along with Blaine. Burt and Tom get along surprisingly well, from what Kurt can overhear from Burt's side. They get through the logistics of the trip and somehow wind up discussing the latest Buckeyes game. By the time Kurt clears his throat, signaling for his dad to wrap things up, they'd just begun chatting about local politics.

"Relax, you have my blessing," Burt teases as he hangs up.

"Thank you!" Kurt replies, trying to hide just how excited he is. He's preparing to head out of the kitchen and finish getting ready for school when his dad speaks up again.

"Since when are you and Blaine such good friends?"

Kurt swallows hard as he shrugs. "We have a class together and he's always hanging around Quinn. It was bound to happen."

"Well, I'm glad you've been making some new friends. You've seemed… I dunno, peppier these days."

"Uh… thanks." Kurt bolts out of the kitchen before the conversation can go on any longer and makes a mental note to act less 'peppy' around his dad from now on.

* * *

The world finally decides to extend some kindness to Kurt Hummel by making the leadup to the Oberlin weekend trip stress free. Convincing his dad to let him go wasn't even half as painful as he had anticipated it would be – he had been fully prepared to do a fair bit of groveling to get what he wanted. They're even able to avoid telling Quinn the full truth about their weekend plans. She knows that Blaine is headed to Oberlin for the weekend, but the question of who would be replacing his dad on the trip never comes up. They're prepared to tell her the truth, should it come up, and deal with the consequences of revealing that they've become closer 'friends' – but the opportunity never comes. It's not a lie of omission if Quinn never asks, Kurt tells himself.

Blaine picks Kurt up from his house after their respective practices on Friday. By the time Kurt gets home, he's practically buzzing out of his skin with excitement. He hasn't felt this excited for an excursion with a boy… well, ever. His heart flutters at the thought of kissing Blaine without looking over his shoulder, of having him all to himself. His dad isn't home yet, so Kurt throws his bag into the backseat of Blaine's car and pulls him in for an enthusiastic welcome kiss.

"Have I mentioned that you're a genius for coming up with this idea?" Kurt says in between kisses.

Blaine laughs, cupping Kurt's cheek and holding him in place. "You haven't, and while I appreciate the compliment, if we don't leave soon we're going to spend half of this trip stuck in traffic."

"Ugh, you sound like my dad," Kurt groans, and begrudgingly pulls away from Blaine to settle in the passenger seat.

Blaine puts Kurt in charge of navigating – a task that comes with the all important control of the AUX cord. Kurt had spent hours the previous night curating the perfect driving playlist – something that would showcase his taste in music without being too embarrassing. He listens to far more show-tunes than he cares to admit, and definitely doesn't want to subject Blaine to that on their first extended outing together. Thankfully, Blaine is impressed by Kurt's taste, praising the playlist several times throughout the journey. An hour into the drive, they stop for dinner at a roadstop. Blaine convinces Kurt to break his Sue Sylvester-mandated Cheerio diet to split a burger and fries with him. Kurt is reluctant, but Blaine makes a convincing argument by reminding him how terrible, and ultimately not very healthy, fast food salads are anyway. So he decides to live a little.

They attempt tossing fries into each other's mouths from across the table. When they're not consumed by childish giggles, it's clear that Kurt is more adept at catching things than Blaine – but their antics come to an end when the elderly woman behind them starts throwing them dirty looks. They finish off their meal like respectable young adults, with Blaine promising a rematch that he's sure he'll crush. They chat and tease one another like they're lifelong friends – and when they're back to the privacy of Blaine's car, they kiss and touch like they're lifelong lovers.

They're easily distracted by one another, kissing and talking and then more kissing, which throws them about an hour off of schedule, but they don't really mind. Blaine takes control of the AUX cord for the remainder of the drive, and Kurt is equally impressed by Blaine's taste in music – despite the surprising amount of Katy Perry featured on said playlist. Kurt's also surprised by Blaine's singing abilities. He'd never met another boy who could carry a tune, much less sound so good while doing it.

"Where did you learn to sing like that? And please don't say it's natural born talent, because that would be just totally unfair."

Blaine chuckles, blushing at the praise. "I did some singing in the choir when I was a kid," he answers humbly.

"Ah, a former Church boy," Kurt teases, cocking his eyebrow.

Blaine clams up, stumbling over himself for a second before ultimately nodding and saying nothing more. Kurt moves on to something else – noting the obvious sore subject. Besides the minor blip, the conversation helps the remainder of the trip fly by. They're in the midst of ranking Lady Gaga's albums when they pull up to the Airbnb Blaine's dad had rented for the weekend.

"Huh, Tom really pulled out all the stops for you, didn't he?" Kurt jokes as they step into the living room of the modest two bedroom home, running his finger along the mahogany dining room table.

"The Andersons take all of our excursions very seriously," he replies with a put-on pompous voice. "But really I just think this is his way of trying to convince me to apply to more colleges in Ohio," he adds with a shrug.

"Mom and dad can't bear to part with their darling baby boy?" Kurt pinches Blaine's cheek. Blaine bats him away with a grin.

"More like they can't bear to part with their salaries trying to pay out-of-state tuition."

Blaine rests his hands on Kurt's hips, standing up as straight as he can to rest their foreheads together. "Hi," he whispers.

"Hi," Kurt replies with a giggle before leaning in for a kiss.

The kiss goes from sweet to sultry in record time. Blaine's fingertips dive beneath the hem of Kurt's sweater, skimming along his skin and leaving a path of goosebumps. Kurt happily wraps his arms around Blaine's neck, grinning when Blaine breaks the kiss to trail his lips along Kurt's neck.

"If this trip is an elaborate way of trying to get me to have sex with you again then I hate to tell you this – but all you had to do was ask."

Blaine laughs, breath warm against his neck. "I promise that was not my intention, but it is very much on my mind right now," he says before turning his attention back to Kurt's neck.

"Great minds really do think alike," Kurt responds before focusing all of his attention on Blaine.

They shed off clothes carelessly – Kurt praising himself for having the foresight to wear an outfit he was already preparing to donate to Goodwill. Blaine is down to just his jeans, while Kurt is down to boxer briefs when Blaine's phone begins to buzz in his pocket.

"Ignore it," Kurt mumbles before returning to kiss along Blaine's chest.

"Might be my parents." Blaine groans as he begrudgingly takes a step back from Kurt to reach into his pocket. Blaine frowns at his screen, eyes flickering back and forth from Kurt to the phone. "It's Quinn…"

Kurt sighs, seating himself on the edge of the dining table behind him. "Go ahead and answer." He's a mix of annoyed and guilty as he watches Blaine accept the call. He's frustrated with Quinn for calling and disrupting them – only for the whiplash reminder that Quinn doesn't owe them privacy to keep him level-headed.

Blaine heads into the next room to take the call. Kurt can still hear Blaine's voice through the paper thin walls – he listens as Blaine asks Quinn how her dinner with her parents went and whether she managed to get that last minute appointment at the hair salon. He listens as Blaine tells Quinn he loves her before hanging up and returning to the living room.

"Sorry about that," he says quickly – breathless, as though keeping up with his lies has winded him.

"It's alright," Kurt says with a weak smile, and when Blaine kisses him again it really does feel like everything's alright.

The call with Quinn is quickly forgotten as they pick up where they'd left off. It's impossible to think of anything that isn't touching longer and kissing harder as they shed off their last articles of clothing. They take advantage of the time, space, and privacy – three luxuries they've never been afforded before. They take their sweet time every step of the way. Kurt teases Blaine by taking nearly a full five minutes to remove his underwear, which Blaine returns by pulling off his pants at an agonizingly slow pace.

There's kissing, and there's fucking, and there's something in between that Kurt doesn't quite know how to distinguish. It's well past one in the morning and they're spread out on the couch, Kurt beneath Blaine with his ankles locked at the base of Blaine's back as he fucks into him. Except it's not fucking, or at least not what he would call fucking. It's slow – almost torturously so. When they're not crying out one another's names, they're kissing long and hard, whispering praise and sweet nothings against each other's sweaty skin. Then, in the moments where there's no kissing and no moaning and just silence, Blaine looks deep into his eyes. It's so intense Kurt considers turning away or occupying Blaine's attention with something else, but he can't look away. It's not something he's ever experienced during sex before, and his heart feels so tight he's worried it'll burst right out of his chest. So he kisses Blaine, and when they pull apart he asks him to fuck him faster.

There's no talking as they finally pull themselves off of the couch to stumble off to bed. There are two bedrooms – Kurt having already thrown his stuff onto the bed in the smaller bedroom – but Blaine loops his fingers through Kurt's and guides him to the master bedroom. Kurt doesn't have the energy to protest or question as they collapse onto the bed side by side, not even bothering to get redressed. They're tangled up in one another, Blaine's arm around Kurt's waist, Kurt's back pressed warm to Blaine's chest, as they drift off to sleep.

The first thing Kurt notices in the morning is that he's not in his bed at home. He panics for a few seconds until the fog of exhaustion begins to fade away and reality sets in. Right, he's in Oberlin, with Blaine, who he had fallen asleep with… emphasis on _had. _The second thing Kurt notices is that Blaine is gone. There's no imprint on the opposite side of the bed from where his body once was, but Kurt is positive that he had felt the warm weight of Blaine next to him, pressed close to him, throughout the night.

Kurt grabs the cotton quilt that had been tossed to the ground during the night around himself and pads towards the living room. He's overwhelmed by the scent of bacon the moment he steps out of the bedroom. Kurt grabs his underwear off of the floor as he passes through the living room, slipping them on before stepping into the kitchen. Blaine is at the stove, surrounded by a flurry of pots and pans, standing as far away from the pan of bacon as he can.

"Ow, goddammit!" Blaine cries out when, despite his best efforts, a droplet of bacon grease pops out of the pan and right onto his arm.

"Need some help?" Kurt doesn't hide his amusement at Blaine's struggles.

Blaine pouts childishly for a moment before sighing and surrendering the spatula in his hand to Kurt. "Yes. But please remember that it's the thought that counts."

Kurt hums in acknowledgement as he takes over for Blaine at the stove. He's not any better at cooking bacon than Blaine is, but he's better at dodging the grease as it pops all over the place. He hisses when several drops sting his arm, but keeps on flipping the last two remaining strips, pushing through the pain.

"My hero," Blaine praises as Kurt finally turns off the stove and sets the cooked bacon aside, rewarding him with a kiss on the cheek.

"Says the man who made a four course breakfast at an ungodly hour." Kurt finally takes in the spread set up on the counter beside him. He can't fathom how Blaine had the energy to get up and prepare scrambled eggs, pancakes, and a fruit salad while the edges of Kurt's vision are still sleep blurred.

Kurt helps Blaine carry the plates out to the dining room table – the two of them blushing as they kick aside their clothing from the previous evening. They have no qualms about eating at the table they'd fucked on not twelve hours ago, but Kurt would be lying if he said the reminder of it doesn't make him uncomfortably aroused so early in the morning.

They play nice and sit on their respective ends of the table as they indulge on the feast Blaine has prepared. They discuss plans for the day – they have a tour of the Oberlin campus at 3, and Blaine was hoping to check out the Allen Memorial Art Museum while they're there. Kurt's only request is that they try an Italian restaurant for dinner – Breadstix has so deeply spoiled his opinion of Italian food that he desperately needs a palate cleanser.

They take several long sips of their coffee, enjoying the comfortable silence, when Kurt notices Blaine giving him a look. "What?" he asks, self consciously reaching up to run his fingers through his sleep mussed hair.

"You're still beautiful. Even the morning after."

Kurt gasps quietly, hiding his smile behind the rim of his coffee mug. It's the sweetest thing anyone has ever said to him. His mind and heart race, coming up with dozens of different responses, but they all seem to fall short. Instead, he sets down his mug and slides underneath the table, crawling his way over to Blaine to show him just how much the sentiment means to him.

* * *

The Oberlin campus is far nicer than either of them had anticipated, but they both agree by the end of their tour that, as nice as it may be, it's not an option for either of them. A two hour drive outside of Lima isn't even close to how far away they want to be from their hometown once the time comes to leave for college. They still accept the information booklet given to them at the end of the tour, including an application fee waiver. Blaine shrugs as he goes through the booklet, saying he'll consider applying just to appease his parents.

They make the most of their visit by exploring as much as they can. They spend about twenty minutes in the museum before Kurt caves and admits to Blaine that he finds most museums dreadfully boring. Blaine blushes as he confesses that he feels the same way – he'd been under the impression that Kurt was the art museum type. Kurt laughs until there are tears blooming in the corners of his eyes and onlookers begin to give them suspicious looks. Blaine ushers him out of the museum, stifling his own laughter, and leaves it up to Kurt to guide them to wherever it is he wants to go next.

They settle for bowling – an activity they both enjoy. Halfway through the game it becomes clear that Blaine is far too in the lead for Kurt to ever catch up, but Kurt doesn't let that hold him back. Try as he might, he's just not very good at bowling. He winds up landing more gutterballs than hitting any pins, but they don't let that stop their fun.

"So, is your plan to tell your parents you've suddenly fallen in love with the city of Oberlin?" Kurt teases when it's Blaine's turn to bowl – half in an attempt to distract him, and half out of curiosity.

Blaine shrugs, pausing to concentrate and finish his turn before responding. He knocks down seven pins, pouting as he considers his next move. "I'm a pretty good liar, but not that good of a liar. Besides, I already applied to three of the schools they made me visit last year, they'll be fine." He finishes off his turn with a spare, pumping his fist in excitement as Kurt rolls his eyes.

"Are you only applying to schools your parents want you to go to?" Kurt asks as he steps up for his turn.

Blaine shrugs, fiddling with the velcro strap of his bowling shoes. "Not really. I applied to a few other places that I hadn't talked about with them. Carnegie Mellon, Brown." He trails off for a moment before adding, "NYU too."

Kurt bites his lip – he tries to focus on the bowling ball in his hand instead of looking too intrigued by Blaine's college choices.

"For performing arts?" he asks casually as he pivots and releases the ball – not even caring when the ball immediately pivots right into the gutter.

"Yeah. I figured it wouldn't hurt," he admits sheepishly, his cheeks pink.

"Doesn't hurt to try." Kurt hopes his response is casual as he nods in agreement and takes his seat beside Blaine.

Blaine doesn't respond, so Kurt drops the subject and they continue on with their game. Blaine wins, of course, and Kurt rewards him with a soft victory kiss on the cheek when he's sure no one is looking. But the moment he pulls away, Blaine takes him by the wrist and pulls him back in, kissing him so hard Kurt's body erupts under his touch, and he can't find the will in him to care about anyone seeing.

Besides the unexpected victory kiss, they're careful to keep a safe distance from one another when in public – Oberlin doesn't grant them the privacy that they really crave. Except for stolen kisses and flirty looks, they stay away from any public displays of affection – though it's not hard to see that what's brewing between them is more than friendship. Their feet glide against calves and knock knees under the table at dinner. They blush and giggle around their entrees and are buzzing for kisses and touching by the time they stumble back to the Airbnb. They're starving for one another after playing it so safe all day – and finally indulge themselves the moment the door closes behind them.

* * *

To repay Blaine for his kindness, Kurt insists on driving them back Sunday afternoon. Blaine is reluctant at first, but gives in when Kurt makes it clear he isn't backing down. Blaine happily settles into the passenger seat, curling in on himself and closing his eyes only twenty minutes into the drive. They hadn't gotten much sleep the previous evening – which was mostly at Kurt's insistence that they make the most of every remaining minute of privacy they had left. Kurt doesn't protest when he realizes his driving partner is asleep, smiling fondly at the way Blaine has managed to curl in on himself in the cramped seat. He turns the music down, laughing quietly as he watches Blaine's brow furrow and release as he lets out a sleepy groan, clearly in the midst of some kind of dream turmoil.

When they're stopped at a rest stop to reload on gas , Kurt sneaks a peek at Blaine out of the corner of his eye. He's begun snoring lightly, his eyelashes fluttering against his cheeks. Kurt wants to stop the world just to stare at Blaine until his heart has its fill. He wants to wrap Blaine up in his arms and hold him so, _so _tight and never let go. Looking at Blaine, so peaceful and so beautiful in the warm glow of the setting sun, changes something. Kurt can't put his finger on it – whether it's a physical or emotional shift, or what exactly it is that's changed. But he knows to cherish this moment, even if he doesn't know what it means yet – because one day he'll want to look back on this. The moment everything changed.


	10. Chapter 10

There's something about Blaine Anderson that transforms Kurt into a different person. In the past, Kurt never let boys kiss him in public — any public display of affection in small town Ohio was just asking for trouble. When Blaine had kissed him in the bowling alley, Kurt's gut instinct was to push him away, to break things up before anyone could spot them. But he didn't — he let Blaine pull him in and hold him there and didn't regret it in the slightest. Kurt had never let his previous relationships, secret or otherwise, impact his daily life. He didn't need romance to make him happy. Now, every moment he spends with Blaine makes him exponentially happier. Life could try to beat him down but he'd still walk out of it all with a smile on his face so long as Blaine was there at the end of the day.

Unfortunately, Blaine also made Kurt less cautious. He was once able to come up with lies to cover up his outings with boys with ease — no one ever questioned him when he disappeared for a night or an afternoon. Kurt had blamed his sudden inability to lie effectively on the fact that he'd simply run out of lies to tell — but the truth of the matter was that being with Blaine had brought his guard down. He would become so focused on all things Blaine he'd forget to cover his tracks. This was the biggest problem of all.

With Blaine still fast asleep in the passenger seat, Kurt decides to drop Blaine off at his house and call a Lyft for himself. It's the least he can do for Blaine, who has been so wonderfully perfect the entire weekend. Kurt gently shakes Blaine awake once they pull into his driveway, grinning at how adorable Blaine looks as he glances around in confusion.

When Blaine invites him into the house to wait for his Lyft, Kurt knows that he should say no. He knows that Blaine's parents are most likely going to be home, and that it'd be impossible to smuggle Kurt into the house without them noticing. He knows the risks of meeting Blaine's parents, of having to come up with more lies on the spot and risking them telling Quinn about their weekend away. He knows all of these risks, and he still says yes, because it's Blaine. He's not sure he can ever say no to Blaine.

They've barely made it five feet into Blaine's home when they're stopped in their tracks by a petite Asian woman. She launches herself at Blaine, showering him in kisses as she holds him tight in her arms.

"Mom, stop!" Blaine protests as he attempts to wriggle out of her (extremely impressive) grip. By the time he's broken free, his flushed cheeks are covered in lipstick prints.

The sight would be adorable if Kurt wasn't completely terrified. The woman turns on her heels when she notices his presence, grinning and throwing her arms open wide.

"And this must be Kurt!" she announces before wrapping her arms around him and pulling him in for a hug. "It's such a pleasure to finally meet you!" she exclaims before giving Kurt a kiss on each cheek.

The experience is overwhelming, to say the least. Kurt is able to stop his mind from racing long enough to properly introduce himself to Blaine's mom. Blaine doesn't try to mask his concern as he watches the two interact, biting his lip and shooting Kurt apologetic looks every chance he can get.

"Tom, come here — Bee is back and he brought Kurt with him!" she calls out towards the living room, Blaine suddenly springing into action and blocking his mom's path.

"Actually, Kurt was just coming in for a second, he really has to head back home," Blaine explains before attempting to shuffle Kurt back towards the door.

"Oh, I was hoping you could join us for dinner, Kurt," his mother says, wearing the same sad expression Blaine always puts on when he doesn't get his way. "We've been dying to meet our Bee's new friend," she adds, shooting her son a surprisingly stern look.

Before either Kurt or Blaine reply, a booming voice startles both of them, Blaine looking as though he's going to pass out any second.

"The great Kurt Hummel has finally joined us!" Tom Anderson says with a flair of his hands as he steps up behind his wife, placing his hands on her shoulders. "Joining us for dinner, Kurt?"

Kurt considers an array of options. He could pretend to pass out. He could excuse himself to the bathroom because he feels like he's going to be sick (which wouldn't be much of a lie). He could make a run for his car and leave Blaine to explain. He could pretend to take a phone call. He could say his dog just died. Instead, he says:

"Sure."

Blaine's parents clap and smile in excitement and Blaine is as pale as a ghost.

"We'll call you both down when dinner's ready — it should only be a few more minutes," Blaine's mother assures them before shuffling back to the kitchen. His dad thankfully follows her lead and heads back to the living room, leaving the boys alone and reeling.

"My room?" Blaine says after several seconds of silence.

Kurt nods and the two bolt up the stairs to Blaine's bedroom, locking the door behind them.

"Why did you say yes?!" Blaine asks in a whisper once they've reached the safety of his room.

"What else was I supposed to say?!" Kurt hisses back.

Blaine groans, hiding his face in his hands for several seconds before running a hand through his hair and taking in a deep breath.

"I'm sorry, this is fine. We'll be fine. Everything is fine," he says, nodding to himself.

"You don't sound fine," Kurt retorts as he crosses his arms.

"I'm nervous. My parents… they're a lot, sometimes," Blaine says with a sigh, walking over to the full length mirror and attempting to scrub at the lipstick stains on his cheeks.

"Should we go over what our story is?"

Blaine shrugs, not bothering to turn back to Kurt when he replies. "I don't think so. We're just friends. Doing things that friends do."

"Right. Just friends," Kurt replies, an edge to his voice, doing his best to push away the sense of dread growing in the pit of his stomach.

* * *

Kurt is able to ground himself after several deep breaths and a visit to the bathroom, where he reminds himself that he is Kurt Hummel, aspiring Broadway star. He can act his way out of a paper bag and he will give the performance of a lifetime tonight. Blaine manages to look less visibly nervous, but the constant tapping of his foot beneath the dinner table is telling. Thankfully, his parents are too consumed by their new guest to pay much mind to their son's nervous ticks. Tom and Irene, as they insist they be called, throw question after question Kurt's way. How did he and Blaine meet? Through Quinn. How does he like being a Cheerio? It has its perks. How did he like Oberlin? Pleasant, but not for him.

To their credit, they're excellent listeners. After each question they watch Kurt answer with thoughtful kind eyes, nodding and ah-ing in all of the appropriate places. They're so warm and inviting that Kurt slowly begins to feel his nerves fade away, and even laughs along when Tom tells a story about how Blaine was convinced the sky was falling for five months when he was in the second grade.

Kurt has just finished detailing the tedious process of sending off his NYU application when the topic shifts into uncomfortable territory.

"That's so funny, Quinn was just telling us the same thing about her Yale applications last week." Irene turns her attention to Blaine, who has spent more time pushing around the food on his plate than he has eating. "Bee, have you finished up your Yale application? Quinn said the deadline is coming up."

Kurt shifts uncomfortably to glance at Blaine. It was commonly known that Quinn had been dreaming of Yale since her freshman year. Much like Blair Waldorf, she'd tailored her entire high school career around Yale. Her extracurriculars, what classes she took — all of it was for Yale. In all of their conversations about school and the future, Blaine had never mentioned Yale. From what he'd told Kurt, he hadn't been entertaining the possibility of following Quinn to college, or making any plans for the future with her. Kurt holds his breath as he awaits Blaine's reply.

"I, uh, I'm not sure if I'm still going to apply," Blaine admits sheepishly, shoving a large piece of meatloaf into his mouth.

"Is everything okay? You were both so excited about applying," Irene pries, looking genuinely upset at the thought of Blaine not applying.

"Yeah, it's fine, I'm just not sure I have the grades for Yale," Blaine says with a shrug, mouth still full of food.

"Blaine, don't let yourself get into your head. You've been acing your classes since freshman year, you have the football team now, and I'm sure Russel can put in a good word for you," Tom assures Blaine with a pat on the back.

"You two have been talking about this for months, you have to at least try!"

Kurt sets down his fork, suddenly not feeling very hungry. He can't shake the image of Quinn and Blaine, hand in hand in their preppy blazers, exchanging quick goodbye kisses before running off to their classes on opposite sides of campus out of his mind. Blaine and Quinn had been making plans for their future together, plans that they'd kept close to their hearts — so close, Blaine hadn't bothered to share them with Kurt.

The memory of exchanging shy smiles as they discussed their future plans while bowling is soured. It would have been so easy for Blaine to mention Yale. He wouldn't have even had to say anything more — Kurt would understand immediately. Applying to Yale meant plans to continue on with Quinn, for a future with Quinn. Kurt wracks his brain for any recollection of Quinn mentioning Blaine in her grand Yale schemes. Her boyfriend's didn't always make it into her dreams of the future — everyone knew Finn didn't have the grades or ambition to get to Yale. But Blaine does. Kurt wonders if perhaps this was Blaine and Quinn's private little dream — just like his dreams of New York they dreamed of escaping to New Haven together. How many more secrets have Blaine and Quinn shared that Kurt doesn't know about?

"That reminds me," Irene announces with a snap of her fingers. "Bee, Father Vic asked if you and Quinn could come in and lead a youth group session in two weeks. He's going to be out of town, so he was hoping you two could watch over things."

The despair clouding Kurt's mind is pushed away to make room for confusion. He blinks up at Blaine, watching as the other boy goes beet red at his mother's question.

"Youth group?" Kurt doesn't realize he's asked the question aloud until Tom gives him an answer.

"Blaine and Quinn are counselors at our church's youth group. And they can thank the youth group for bringing them together," he says with a wink, nudging his shoulder against Blaine's.

Kurt was well aware of Quinn and her family's involvement with their church. It was all a part of her carefully constructed good girl narrative. She was even the president of McKinley's Chastity Club, even when the entire student body knew her relationships were less than chaste. She'd mentioned that she and Blaine had met through their family — reconnecting when Blaine moved back to Lima from Westerville. There had been no mentions of church or youth groups, from either Blaine or Quinn — but it all made sense. So much so that Kurt began to berate himself for not seeing the signs earlier.

Even as he looked around the dining room, where he and Blaine had kissed and laughed together not one week earlier, there were signs that he had willfully ignored. The framed quotes on the wall that Kurt had previously brushed off as overly poetic cited themselves as Bible passages. The framed photos of Blaine receiving his first communion, of his brother with a gaggle of nuns at a charity event, of his dad barbecuing with a priest in their backyard. The three crosses on each wall of the room. The golden crucifix that hung on Irene's neck. The signs had always been there, but Kurt had chosen not to see them.

"It was the cutest thing. When Bee and Quinn told their kids that they were finally a couple the kids came up with this little routine. Oh, let me look it up." Irene trails off to pull out her phone and begins typing away.

"Mom, don't," Blaine pleads, but Irene ignores him.

"Stop being shy, Bee! It was so adorable I just burst into tears," Irene says, her excitement almost palpable as she passes her phone over to Kurt.

It's a video of a dozen children gathered together in a church basement. They're holding hands and singing the Beatles' All You Need is Love at the top of their lungs to a bewildered Blaine and Quinn. Blaine and Quinn are seated before the group of children, holding hands and wiping away tears as they're serenaded with one of the world's most beautiful love songs. As the children sing the final chords of the song, Blaine leans over and takes Quinn's face in his hands and kisses her. The crowd goes wild, the children erupting into cheers of excitement and completely forgetting to actually finish off the song. There's a group of nuns and priests behind the children clapping along too, their eyes misty as they watch their beloved Blaine and Quinn wrap themselves up in each other's arms.

"Wow," is all Kurt is able to say as the video finally comes to an end. Kurt's grateful that the video was so emotional — he has a reason to explain the tears glossing his vision as his stomach clenches so intensely it physically pains him to hold in his tears.

"I swear, it's the best thing I've ever seen. We told Father Vic we have to have the kids perform that routine at their wedding someday." Irene holds her hand to her heart as she takes one last look at the video before putting her phone away.

Blaine looks as though he wants to sink through the floor. His fingers are curled into white knuckled fists, his eyes fixed on his plate. "Oh stop it, Bee. He always gets so shy about the video. It's sweet, right Kurt?" Irene swats her son playfully on the arm before turning to Kurt with an expectant look.

"It's really sweet," Kurt answers to appease her, keeping his eyes focused on her. He refuses to look at Blaine.

Kurt can't find it in him to smile, even politely, for the rest of the meal. He declines the invitation to stay for dessert, insisting that he's quite drained and really should be getting home. Tom initially offers to drive Kurt home, an offer he's ready to decline when Blaine finally speaks up, offering to drive Kurt back home himself. Kurt declines Blaine's offer almost too quickly, still refusing to look at Blaine as he shakes his head and insists he's fine with taking a ride share home. But the Anderson family argues back in full force, insisting that Kurt let one of them drive him home. In the end, Blaine is the lesser of two evils.

Miraculously, Blaine doesn't say anything when they get to the car. He keeps his eyes on the road for the first ten minutes of the drive, then sneaks glances at Kurt whenever they're idled at a stop sign or red light. Kurt keeps his eyes fixed on the window. He tries his best to put all of his thoughts together into one cohesive line of thinking, but he's being pulled in dozens of different directions. Part of him wants to forget everything he'd seen that night and focus on the good — focus on the memories of Blaine's lips on his and Blaine's voice in his ear and Blaine's fingers tracing patterns on his skin. The other part of him begs him to stop making excuses for all of the things that have gone wrong since Blaine entered his life — to see the reality of the situation. He's falling in love with his best friend's boyfriend — his best friend who Blaine's family loves, and considers part of their family. The girl they want him to marry someday.

Kurt can't say he's ever been strung along before — though he'd by lying if he said he hadn't done it to other boys in the past. He feels so incredibly stupid as he replays every moment of their weekend together over and over in his mind. He had let himself so easily fall into the idea of a future with Blaine that he never stopped to consider that maybe Blaine had other plans. In retrospect it should be obvious — of course Blaine and Quinn had plans for their future together. It stings that Quinn didn't trust him enough to let him in on those plans, and it burns that Blaine purposefully chose not to tell him, and let him paint his own fantasy future instead.

They pull up to the curb outside of Kurt's house and he attempts to bolt out of the car as fast as he can, but Blaine reaches out and takes his wrist.

"Kurt, please—"

"Stop," Kurt interrupts, wrenching back his wrist and attempting to open the door, only to find that Blaine has locked it. "Unlock the door."

"Kurt, please let me explain," Blaine pleads, reaching out once more and trying to take Kurt's hand in his, but he quickly pulls away.

"What is there to explain?" Kurt spits back, finally turning to Blaine with red rimmed eyes, tears threatening to spill over at any moment.

When finally given his moment to speak Blaine says nothing. All he does is stare at Kurt, looking into his teary eyes and trying to say something, but no words come.

"You were never going to tell her, were you?" Kurt says to break the silence, hating how broken and sad his voice sounds.

"Tell who?" Blaine asks and Kurt wants to scream in frustration.

"Quinn. You were never going to tell her about us. That's not part of the plan you have laid out for yourself. I was never a part of your plan."

"Kurt, things have changed. Everything changed the minute you came into the picture and—"

"Then why didn't you tell me the truth?" Kurt spits out, tears now streaming now his cheeks.

"W-what?"

"You never told me the truth about how you and Quinn met. About how you two were planning to go to Yale together, or how your family wants you two to get married someday. How could you have not told me about that?" Kurt shouts at Blaine, the other boy startled by how loud Kurt has become.

"I-I didn't mean to keep it from you," Blaine replies in the tiniest whisper.

"Right. It was all just another lie you told yourself you'd come clean about eventually."

Kurt reaches over across the center console and presses the unlock button for his door himself. He's gathering his things, preparing to head out and leave Blaine behind for good when Blaine leans over to him again.

"Kurt, I swear to you that I'm going to come clean to Quinn about everything. I can't promise that I'm going to tell my parents immediately because… I-I just need more time to figure out what to say," Blaine pleads, struggling to maintain his own composure.

"I would never force you to come out to your parents if you're not ready," Kurt snaps quickly.

Blaine having to eventually tell his parents about their relationship was something that had crossed Kurt's mind before, but he had never let it become too much of a concern. He knows how difficult it can be to be so vulnerable and open with one's parents — his own relationship with his dad has only deteriorated in the years since he came out to him his freshman year. He would never push Blaine to open up to them if he didn't want to — he would encourage, sure. But it's not his place to dictate those terms.

"And now you don't have to worry about it — telling them, or telling Quinn. You've built this beautiful fantasy future for yourself, and I won't stand in the way of that anymore."

"But I don't want that future anymore — I want a future with you. I just need you to trust me," Blaine begs one last time, holding his hand out to Kurt.

Kurt glances from Blaine's outstretched hand to his glistening brown eyes — eyes that would've made him melt not even an hour earlier. He doesn't take long to consider what Blaine has asked him — he's followed his heart every step of the way with Blaine, and it's only landed him in mess after mess. For once, he decides to follow his brain instead.

"No. I don't trust you," he says, his voice strong and sure, before opening the door and exiting the car.

He doesn't look back as he makes his way back to his house. He wipes away the tears streaking his cheeks and pauses at his front door to take several deep breaths. He knows he can't walk into his house looking like he's in the midst of a breakdown. He wonders if Blaine is still waiting in the car, idling on the curb, watching him struggle to pull himself together. He briefly considers turning around — wanting to see if Blaine is as broken as he is. But he's stronger than that — he's not going to let Blaine weaken his resolve anymore.

He can't help but laugh to himself, shaking his head as he opens the door to his home. After all that, it turns out he _is_ able to say no to Blaine.


	11. Chapter 11

A world without Blaine should be easy. Kurt should have been able to easily slip back into his pre-Blaine routine, but he stumbles along the way. Blaine isn't the only part of his routine that has changed. He spends what little bit of free time he has preparing for his upcoming audition for NYADA, the school of his dreams. When he isn't occupied with practicing scales and rehearsing choreography in his bedroom, he struggles to balance his friend group and the secrets he's still hiding from them. Every day since exiting Blaine's car, Kurt considers telling Quinn the truth, but every time it crosses his mind he hesitates. As much as he wants to start fresh, the story of him and Blaine isn't his to tell alone. He remembers the way he had trembled when he finally came out to his dad, and that had been on his own terms. He can't imagine what it would have been like to have someone else tell his story for him.

There comes a point where Kurt realizes he has forgiven Blaine. It doesn't take long, and for a while Kurt wonders if he should've been angrier, should've spent more time ruminating about everything that happened with Blaine, the lies that he told, the way he'd led Kurt on. Instead he focuses on what Blaine had said in the car — how his plans had changed the moment he met Kurt. He spends more time thinking about that single sentence than he does thinking about anything else for a full week. Maybe Blaine's plans really had changed — if they had, did it really matter what his plans were before? If he was as much of a changed person as he claimed to be, why should Kurt care what Blaine had planned out for himself before they'd met?

And so, Kurt holds his breath and waits. He waits for Blaine to prove to him that he really has changed, that things are going to be different this time around. Quinn heads off on her weekend trip with her family, and Kurt can't help compulsively checking her social media once she's returned. Every time she texts him he practically jumps out of his skin. He waits for something, anything, to change — a passive aggressive tweet, a change in her Facebook relationship status — anything that would indicate that Blaine had gone through with his promise anyway, even without Kurt there to guide him. Kurt puts his entire life on hold, waiting to see if Blaine will prove that his plans for himself really have changed, but nothing changes. Weeks go by, the weather begins to chill, but Blaine and Quinn are just as hot as ever, exchanging borderline inappropriate goodbye kisses in the parking lot before and after school. Kurt decides he's done with waiting.

Once he's ready, Kurt does what he can to put the past behind him. He and Blaine don't speak unless absolutely necessary, which is significantly easier than expected now that their English project is behind them. Everyone is so wrapped up in their own social lives and homework and college applications to notice the way things between them have soured.

Instead, life goes on, and Kurt does his best to bury the past with each passing day. He focuses on what's next instead of dwelling. It's easy to celebrate the future with his friends, who are all buzzing with excitement about parties, and Thanksgiving break, and finally escaping McKinley in just a few short months.

And then there's Adam, who should be the most exciting thing of all.

It's easy to pick things with Adam up where they had left off. They still flirt and text, but Kurt continues to keep things casual. At first, Kurt doesn't know if he's ready to give himself over so readily to another relationship when he's just put a rather significant one to rest, but in the end he decides it's better to take a leap of faith. He takes the rest of the weekend to cry things out, thoroughly soaking his pillowcase with tears and masking his sobs by blasting the Six cast album until his dad yells at him to turn the music down. On Monday morning, he puts his grief to bed and picks his head back up. When Adam greets him at school the following morning with a shy smile Kurt doesn't hesitate to return it, maybe with less enthusiasm, but he's still happy to see him.

"I was hoping I could steal you away for dinner sometime this week."

For a split second, Kurt wonders if it's too soon to pick things back up with Adam, if his heart can handle the possibility of becoming attached to someone new when it's still wounded. But life is too short to waste time on heartbreak, he decides.

"Well, luckily for you I have plenty of time to be stolen on Thursday," he replies with a wink.

Adam smiles at him like he's the sun, moon, and stars, and Kurt would be lying if he didn't admit that it makes his stomach flip. They pick a time to meet, Adam ensuring Kurt that he'll take care of all of the details. Kurt is more than happy to sit back and let Adam court him. He figures he deserves to be chased a little.

Adam pulls out all the stops for their Thursday night dinner. Kurt hadn't anticipated much — based on his previous dating history he was mostly expecting dinner at Breadstix and some light making out in the parking lot. Instead, Kurt picks Adam up in a car that definitely doesn't look like the beat up Honda he was always complaining about.

"My mum let me borrow her car. Special occasion and all," he explains when he quickly catches the way Kurt eyes the freshly washed Tesla.

"I'm flattered that your mother thinks I'm a special occasion," Kurt teases as he lets Adam open up the passenger side door for him.

"She's not wrong," Adam replies, sneaking a swift kiss to Kurt's knuckles before closing the passenger side door.

At first, Kurt is concerned when Adam drives past the Lima city limits into a town he's not familiar with. He wonders if Adam is a teenage serial killer and is starting to berate himself for falling for Adam's charm and good looks when Adam picks up on his anxious energy.

"I thought it might be fun to check out some places outside of Lima. Breadstix is… lovely, but I was thinking we could try something a bit different."

A bit different turns out to be an understatement. Adam brings them to a Brazilian restaurant in a town whose name Kurt can't even pronounce, about thirty minutes outside of Lima. Kurt is embarrassed to admit that he's never had Brazilian food, nor does he even know what it might entail, feeling overwhelmingly uncultured and dull in comparison to Adam. But Adam is quick to soothe his concerns, guiding him through the menu and ordering for both of them when it's clear Kurt is struggling with even the most basic of Portugese.

Despite his nerves, the date goes better than Kurt could have imagined. It turns out Brazilian food is a bit more meat heavy than Kurt would usually prefer, but everything is delicious. Adam insists on taking a back seat when it comes to the conversation — he's told enough stories about his travels, he wants to know more about Kurt instead. At first Kurt is uncharacteristically shy, worried that Adam will find him boring. Even his most interesting stories can't hold a candle to the world that Adam has seen. Kurt has never travelled out of the Midwest, let alone the country.

Regardless, Adam is enchanted by Kurt. He listens raptly to every single word Kurt says, keeps him going with thoughtful questions that are never too prying. He asks Kurt about his dreams of New York, about his performance background, about his family — backing off the subject when it's clear that Kurt's relationship with his dad is a sore subject. He even boldly asks Kurt about his past relationships, noticing the way Kurt's smile falters at the change in topic.

"There was... someone, before. Nothing official or anything. There were a couple of guys before him, but nothing too serious," Kurt says with what he hopes is a nonchalant shrug.

"So, I take that to mean there's no one else right now?" It's clear that Adam is hopeful — his shoulders tighten and his brows arch as he awaits Kurt's answer.

"There's no one else," he confirms with a smile, relieved that for once it isn't a lie.

"In that case, I was wondering if you would be interested in making this," he gestures to the space between them, "into something official?"

Kurt pretends to mull the question over, but he only lasts for a few seconds before he cracks and giggles at the terrified expression on Adam's face. He leans across the table and sneaks a quick kiss, not worrying about who might be watching them because he doesn't have to.

"I'd like that. A lot," he answers as he settles back into his seat, only for Adam to pull him back over for one more kiss, this time as boyfriends.

* * *

Kurt anticipates that things will become easier once Adam becomes a constant in his life, but it only makes things trickier. Kurt makes good on his promise to his dad and invites Adam over for Sunday night dinner, though he puts it off for as long as possible. Kurt spends most of the dinner panicking over whether his dad will make reference to the 'incident' in which he'd nearly caught 'Adam' and Kurt together after school — he has a vague hope that his dad wouldn't be bold enough to bring up his son's sex life at the table, but he can't be sure. This is all uncharted territory.

The dinner is a bit awkward, but nothing out of the ordinary. Adam is the perfect gentleman, as Kurt expected. He praises the roast beef Carole has prepared for them, engages Burt in a conversation about old race cars, and even has a friendly back and forth with Finn about Call of Duty. In fact, it's Kurt's nerves that create the tension in the room. He tenses every time someone directs a question Adam's way, rushing to answer for him even when the question is completely harmless. He wants it to be over as quickly as possible, before anything can go wrong.

When the plates are finally cleared and Adam thanks Carole and Burt for the lovely meal, Kurt finally releases the breath he'd been holding throughout dinner. He practically races Adam to the door, sending him back home with a kiss on the cheek and a promise to text him later. Adam seems confused by Kurt's sudden urgency, but doesn't protest and heads off to his car. Kurt attempts to slip back to his own room unnoticed, only for Burt to stop him halfway down the stairs.

"What're you so nervous about, bud? You look like you're going to pass out any second now."

"Just nervous about a test tomorrow," Kurt mumbles, attempting to continue his trek back to his room, but Burt takes him gently by the arm.

"Adam's a really great guy, Kurt… If that's why you're nervous you have no reason to be. He's a good kid," Burt reassures. It's the most sincere sort-of conversation they've had in years.

"Thanks. I like him a lot," Kurt says with a barely there smile before running off to his room and shutting the door before the conversation can go any further, leaving his very confused father behind.

* * *

When Quinn blocks Kurt's path to his car after Cheerio's practice, arms crossed firmly and a knowing look on her face, he doesn't think much of it.

"Do I have to answer three riddles to get into my own car?" he says with a roll of his eyes, fishing for his keys amidst the mess his messenger bag has become.

"What's going on between you and Blaine?"

Kurt freezes, fingers clenched tightly around his keys. His fingers dig so roughly into the ridges of the keys that he worries it's broken the skin and blood will stain the lining of his bag. But he still doesn't move. He feels like the slightest of winds could knock him over.

"W-what?" he chokes out, using what little strength he has in him to keep himself from passing out as his blood rushes and brain pounds.

"You two have been acting weird for weeks," she adds with a raised eyebrow.

Kurt relaxes just slightly, still keeping his guard up and armed. He tries to release the tension in his shoulders, hoping it'll make him look a bit more composed than he feels. "What're you talking about?"

Quinn rolls her eyes and huffs in frustration. "You two went from being friendly to treating each other like the plague. Not to mention you guys practically flinch whenever I mention your names to each other."

Well shit. Clearly they weren't being as subtle about their sudden falling out as Kurt had thought. Or perhaps Quinn was more perceptive than either of them had given her credit for. Thankfully, Kurt had thought to come up with an excuse for their sudden silence. With Blaine out of the picture he's able to resume his usual caution, his mind no longer clouded by wandering hands and whimsical thoughts.

"He showed his true colors and I didn't like what I saw," Kurt replies, his voice clipped as he pushes past Quinn and attempts to unlock the door to his car, but she leans against the door.

"What did he say?" she asks with wide, concerned eyes.

Kurt had hoped he could keep his excuse purposefully vague, even if he had come up with more details to back himself up. But Quinn doesn't appear to be giving in, Kurt sighing as he watches her grip the door handle tightly.

"He didn't say anything. That's the problem. He blew me off when we were supposed to have our last meeting for our English project and left me to do the bulk of the work."

Quinn's shoulders slump at Kurt's explanation. "That's it? Seriously?"

"He was being an asshole!" Kurt bites back.

"That was over a month ago. You two are acting like it's the Cold War over a stupid English project?"

"It was a very distressing experience and I'm still upset about it." Kurt uses Quinn's change in mood to his advantage, swiftly opening the car door before she can stop him.

"Well, can you two come to a truce already then? I don't have the mental energy to deal with my boyfriend and my best friend hating each other," she pleads, leaning up against the door and pouting until Kurt rolls down his car window with a sigh.

"I don't hate him, I'm annoyed with him," Kurt clarifies.

"Well can you forgive him so we can all move on with our lives?"

Kurt clucks his tongue, considering Quinn's request. As mad and disappointed as he still is with Blaine, the last thing they both need is Quinn breathing down the backs of their necks, forcing them to make amends. "Fine. He's forgiven. Now can I please go home?"

Quinn smiles and nods, reaching up to place a kiss to Kurt's cheek before thanking him and heading off to her own car. Kurt groans as he rolls up his window and sinks back in his seat, his heart finally returning to a normal pace. He wipes off his still clammy hands on his pants as he reaches for his phone. He composes a quick text to Blaine, filling him in on his conversation with Quinn and warning him to keep up with the excuse Kurt's come up with. It's the first time he's said anything to Blaine since that night — though it's not the first time he's wanted to talk to him. He'd sat up in bed for endless hours those first few nights, writing message after message in his Notes app of all the things he wanted to say to Blaine. He wrote messages about how happy he made him and messages about how infuriating everything about him is. But in the end he deleted every single one, never finding the right thing to say.

When he doesn't get a response from Blaine he's relieved. They're not subjecting themselves to a stilted conversation in which they pretend that everything is alright. But there's a bit of disappointment too. A part of him wishes he could get one last message from Blaine, even if it was just an 'okay.' He tells himself that Blaine's reply will seal things off between them for good — it's the last bit of closure that he needs. But it never comes, so Kurt learns to find his closure somewhere else.

* * *

Kurt does his best, he really does. He does what he can to remain neutral and calm whenever Blaine speaks at lunch — though the task is more difficult than expected, given his extreme resting bitch face. When Blaine discusses his family's trip to Disneyworld the previous summer, Kurt nearly makes a lighthearted comment about wanting to see Blaine decked out in full Disney attire, but bites his tongue. He doesn't trust that the comment won't come out snarky instead of sincere, so he distracts himself by turning to Adam and talking to him instead. When it comes to their shared class, Kurt doesn't bother extending any kindness towards Blaine — not when Quinn isn't around to monitor them. He's only putting on a brave face in public spaces with their friends. Blaine doesn't say anything, Quinn doesn't say anything — he assumes all has been mended.

Santana's mid-lunch announcement that she'll be hosting a party Friday night to send them off their separate ways for Thanksgiving break with a bang is a welcome surprise. Kurt is worried that if he spends another night reading about the electoral college, his brain will explode. Plus, finally free of the last of his looming college applications, he's anxious to restore some semblance of a social life again. Adam is buzzing with excitement at the prospect of attending his first 'proper' high school party, and his excitement is infectious. The party marks their grand public debut as a couple outside of the halls of McKinley, where they've limited themselves to nothing more than pecks on the cheek and goodbye kisses in the parking lot.

Santana pulls out all the stops when it comes to the cocktail menu for her Friday night party. She'd coerced a former hook up from OSU to clean out the liquor store around the corner from her house in exchange for nudes, which she declares the deal of a lifetime. Her dining room table is packed to the brim with bottles — some of liquors Kurt's never even heard of. The kitchen counter is littered with mixing options — from orange juice to a suspicious looking liter of Mountain Dew Red.

Kurt decides to play it (somewhat) safe and makes himself a rum and Coke. Adam, feeling adventurous, decides to try the questionable 'Jungle Juice' Santana claims she's spent the entire week perfecting.

"It's a combo of vodka, tequila, lime juice, rum, and… some other stuff," she explains, punctuating the sentence with a chef's kiss before disappearing to greet a new wave of guests. If the way she's already slurring her speech and tripping over herself after a single red solo cup of the mysterious drink is any indication, it's something Kurt wants to avoid.

Kurt sips his drink carefully as he mingles — not wanting to get too sloppy in public. Clearly Adam doesn't have the same concern. Within thirty minutes of serving themselves their drinks Adam is pink cheeked and singing along to the music blasting from the stereo in the living room at full volume. Kurt's attempts at keeping Adam under control by holding his hand in a vice grip had been futile — Adam always found a way to wander off.

"Looks like your boy is having fun," Mike Chang whispers to Kurt, struggling to hold back his amusement.

Kurt glances over his shoulder, groaning at the sight of Adam singing Mr. Brightside at the top of his lungs with Rachel Berry. Across the room Kurt can spot the exact moment Santana looks up and realizes Rachel Berry is in her house. She lunges across the room at record speed, prepared to grab Rachel by the hair when Finn appears between them at the last possible second.

"It's cool, Santana. She's here with me," he explains, throwing his hands up to make it clear he comes in peace — but none of this matters to Santana.

"Then both of you can leave!" she spits back, Rachel still too engrossed in the music to notice the commotion around her.

Kurt takes this opportunity to slide into the living room and grab Adam's hand, pulling him away from the situation before he can become a casualty of war.

"Baaaabe, I was having fun over there," Adam protests as he nearly trips over himself.

Kurt steadies his boyfriend, wrapping an arm around his waist and guiding him to the safety of the hallway off the kitchen, a solid fifteen feet away from the commotion in the living room. He's too nervous about the state Adam is in to revel in the flutter in his stomach at the new pet name Adam has granted him.

"That room is about to become a war zone, so we're staying here until further notice," he says firmly.

"Mm, fine by me," Adam slurs out, leaning down to press their lips together.

Kurt gasps into the kiss, the other boy taking advantage of his slightly parted lips to slide his tongue along Kurt's lower lip. Adam tastes like limes, sugar, and the bitter tang of tequila — his fingers cup Kurt's jaw, pressing lightly and holding him in place as he kisses him harder. It's all too much too fast — Kurt's ready to push Adam away when Adam breaks the kiss first. Before Kurt can protest Adam's lips are on his neck, not bothering with soft kisses, kissing the sensitive skin roughly, nipping playfully. Kurt's body goes into panic overdrive, pushing Adam away with more force than necessary.

"Stop. We're not doing… that here. Not with all of these people." Kurt glances around them, making sure that no one is ogling the overt display of affection.

"Sorry, babe," Adam apologizes, soothing Kurt's worry that he'd have to deal with an overly pushy boyfriend in addition to a drunk one for the rest of the night.

Adam places an apologetic kiss to Kurt's forehead, asking if he can get Kurt anything else to drink. Kurt politely declines and warns Adam not to take another cup of jungle juice, or else he'll have to find a new ride home. He doesn't want any sloppy drunks in his car — not when he just had the interior cleaned last week — and yes, the same rule applies to boyfriends.

Kurt keeps a watchful eye on Adam, watching him make his way to the kitchen and refusing to look away until he's sure that Adam was able to pour himself a drink of water without causing any destruction in Santana's kitchen. When Kurt finally breaks his eyes away from Adam, his stomach sinks. There he is — Blaine, with his eyes focused on Kurt, just across the hall. He must have just arrived, his jacket is slung over his arm. Quinn's voice suddenly rings out, calling out from the living room.

"B, get over here!" she calls out with a giggle.

Kurt swallows hard as he realizes Blaine has to pass by him to get to the living room. He wills his body to move on its own accord, but he remains frozen in place. He can't look away as Blaine approaches him, feeling like an eternity passes until they're standing opposite one another. It's the closest they've been to each other since that night.

"Hey," Blaine greets, his voice slightly breathy.

"Hey," Kurt replies, gulping down his nerves and willing his hands to stop shaking. He hasn't been nervous around Blaine in weeks — why has he suddenly been reduced to pieces now? He blames it on the way Blaine's loose curls frame his face — he's so devastatingly handsome it drives him insane.

"You here with Adam?"

"Yeah — he's in the kitchen," Kurt replies, nodding his head towards the end of the hall, where he spies Adam engaged in an animated conversation with Brittany.

"I figured," Blaine says, nodding his head oddly. Kurt's brow furrows, not sure what Blaine means until he realizes Blaine is nodding towards the mirror behind Kurt.

Kurt turns slightly and gets a peak at his reflection, gasping when he realizes that Adam's teeth have left a harsh red mark in their wake. It's not quite a hickey, but it's obvious enough that the marks were made by lips and teeth.

"That was an accident," Kurt says quickly as he turns back around, not sure why he feels the need to explain himself to Blaine.

Blaine shrugs, shoving his hands into the pockets of his jeans before walking off into the living room to join Quinn. Kurt wants to slap himself over the head for losing his composure around Blaine when he's worked so hard to put everything behind him, only for Adam to reappear at his side.

"Everything okay?" he asks as he slips an arm around Kurt's waist, pulling him close.

"Yeah. I'm fine," Kurt mutters, knocking back the remaining half of his rum and Coke in one swig.

* * *

Kurt's resolve when it comes to alcohol softens as the night goes on. He enjoys the way his nerves begin to simmer and cool after he knocks back the rest of his first drink — so he takes a shot when those nerves begin to bubble to the surface again. Adam's single serving of jungle juice is enough to last him the night — he's loose and carefree without getting too sloppy. The rest of the party goers can't say the same.

People are tripping over each other within the first hour of the party — some of them reduced to puddles of bodies on the floor of the living room. The Santana vs. Rachel debacle is put to bed early on. Finn calls an Uber for Rachel to take her home — she's had far too much to drink anyway, so it's for the best that she heads home for the night. Santana celebrates her victory by passing around shots of bourbon. Out of the corner of his eye, Kurt watches as Blaine accepts every drink handed off to him. He watches as Blaine goes from his usual prim and proper to feisty and loud by his third drink. He and Adam are one in the same — both inebriated enough to pretend that they're friends. They play each other in a round of beer pong and everyone excuses Blaine's over the top need to defeat Adam as drunken competitiveness, but Kurt knows better.

Quinn is one of the few people at the party that's able to keep herself under control. She limits herself to wine coolers — watching with a smirk as her classmates fall apart around her. She and Santana whisper to one another, both of their eyes on Kurt, hiding smiles behind their hands. Kurt, feeling bold all of a sudden, approaches them with the intent of demanding that they let them in on what it is they find so funny, but he's pushed away instantly.

"What gives?!" Kurt protests, throwing his hands up in the air when they giggle at his upset.

"Shoo, we're talking about our periods," Santana replies, Quinn throwing her head back in laughter.

Kurt wants to protest, but the look in Santana's eyes keep him at bay. He knows he's not exempt from her wrath if he pushes her too far. They turn their backs to him and continue on with their conversation in hushed tones — Kurt storming away to find another drink.

He's polished off two more drinks when he spots Santana and Quinn eyeing him again. He's on the couch with Adam, their fingers laced together and resting atop Adam's knee. Adam steals several more heated kisses, but Kurt makes it clear they're not going any further, especially not in front of half of their classmates (even if they are wasted out of their minds). Quinn and Santana are huddled together on the staircase up to the bedrooms, peeking at Kurt before leaning in to whisper to one another. Kurt's brow furrows, shooting the two an annoyed glare only for Santana to patronizingly waggle her fingers in response.

"Hold my drink," Kurt says as he shoves his half-full cup into Adam's hand.

He ignores Adam calling out to him, asking him where he's going, keeping his eyes fixed on Santana and Quinn as they giggle and bolt up the stairs and out of sight. Once he gets to the top of the stairs Santana and Quinn are nowhere to be found. Thankfully Kurt is still lucid enough to remember which of the bedroom doors belongs to Santana. He's relieved when he notices that the door is partially open, bursting in without warning.

"If you have something to say about me then say it to my face!" he shouts, his liquid courage pushing him to stand up for himself.

Quinn and Santana are sitting beside one another on the bed, rolling their eyes at Kurt's dramatic entrance.

"Calm down, lady lips," Santana says as she and Quinn stand up, already beginning to make their way to the door.

"This is an intervention," Quinn explains as they both stand in front of Kurt.

"An intervention for what?!" Kurt has half a mind to storm out of the room — but he really doesn't have any idea what they're talking about. If anything, he's the most put together of the members of their friend group — he's the last person that needs an intervention.

"You and Quinn's man toy need to learn to play nice and stop acting like toddlers throwing a tantrum," Santana explains, ignoring the look Quinn shoots her at the description of Blaine as her 'man toy.'

"Quinn and I already resolved this," Kurt explains, looking to Quinn to back him up.

"Both of you said you were going to be better, and you're both still avoiding each other like the plague," Quinn retorts.

Kurt is prepared to protest — he and Blaine have been on perfectly amiable terms for the past week. Had no one noticed that they'd traded water bottles at lunch after Kurt complained that his was too warm? Progress had very clearly been made. Before he can plead his case, Santana and Quinn step out of the room and slam the door behind them. Kurt lunges for the door knob, practically growling when it refuses to turn in his grip.

"You guys can't just trap me in here," he shouts out.

"My house, my rules," Santana sings back.

Kurt groans as he shuts his eyes and collapses against the door. When he opens his eyes again, he realizes he's neglected to notice someone else is in the room with him. Blaine — seated on the window sill — is blinking up at him with glazed over eyes, his whole face flushed right down to his collarbone.

"Call us when you two have kissed and made up," Quinn calls out.

Kurt attempts to open the door again, muffling a scream of frustration when he realizes the door has been blocked by something on the opposite side.

"Help me figure out how to get out of here," Kurt orders, not bothering to look at Blaine as he glances around the room in search of an exit.

Both windows are open, but it's a solid 15 foot drop to the ground below — he's not willing to take that risk. Blaine stays where he is, perched on the windowsill watching Kurt as he flits around the room. Kurt turns with a huff and snaps his fingers at Blaine when he still hasn't moved after five minutes.

"C'mon, get up and help me out."

Blaine does get up, but instead of helping Kurt he closes the distance between them and locks their lips together. Kurt sputters in shock, his entire body spasming at the unexpected contact — needing several seconds before he can compose himself enough to push Blaine away from him.

"What is wrong with you?!" Kurt spits out, wiping off his mouth angrily, wondering what force of nature he's angered to deserve two boys sloppily lunging themselves at him in one night.

"I-I'm so sorry," Blaine says, his hands shaking at his sides.

"You should be," Kurt snaps back, hating the way his lips still tingle, as if struggling to remember the taste of Blaine.

"No," Blaine adds, stumbling towards Kurt. "I mean yeah, I'm sorry for that too, b-but I meant I'm sorry for… for everything."

Kurt sighs at Blaine's apology, brushing himself off and pushing past Blaine to see if there's a way out in the ensuite bathroom. "Too late for that, isn't it?" he says sarcastically.

"Is it?" Blaine grabs onto Kurt's wrist, tugging him until he turns back to face him.

Blaine's eyes gleam and flicker in the low light of the room. He's obviously well past tipsy and yet he somehow still manages to be so charming.

"Yeah. It is," Kurt replies firmly, pulling his arm from Blaine's grasp.

Blaine watches Kurt continue to explore their surroundings, still searching for a way out. The silence stretches between them but for once it's not deafening. Kurt welcomes the silence — he's had more drinks than he cares to admit and needs all of the focus he can muster to get them out.

"I'll tell her," Blaine says suddenly, Kurt not bothering to pay him any mind.

"Tell who what?"

"I'll tell Quinn everything."

Kurt can't help but laugh. "Yeah, I've heard that one before."

"I'll tell her right now. I'll come clean to everyone if it means we can start over," Blaine pleads, reaching out for Kurt once again.

"Are you insane?!" Kurt snaps, quickly shifting away from Blaine and backing away from him.

"Kurt, please," Blaine begs, but remains in place this time. "I'll never be able to find the words to tell you how sorry I am for not being honest with you from the start. But I can promise to never hide anything from you again."

Just like that, the floodgates open. The small but strong part of himself that has been buried for weeks — the part of him that is still so ready and so willing to take all that Blaine has to give — finally takes over. All of the feelings and memories of Blaine that Kurt had kept bundled together in the back of his heart and mind come rushing back all at once. The image of Blaine before him, tipsy and on the verge of tears, is blurred by visions of the Blaine that Kurt has come to know. Blaine doubled over in laughter, Blaine shooting him a cheesy grin when he set a new pinball high score, Blaine leaning down to kiss him, Blaine crying his name out in ecstasy. Kurt can't ignore him anymore — Blaine has flooded all of his senses.

Kurt does his best to ground himself, stumbling forward and past Blaine towards the bedroom door. He can feel Blaine's eyes on him as he kicks at the door weakly, groaning in frustration before turning back around and collapsing against the wood of the door.

Kurt looks up to meet Blaine's gaze. They've locked eyes for about a quarter of a second before they're on each other. They move in tandem, meeting each other halfway and crashing their lips together. The force of it knocks Kurt back, Blaine pressing him back against the door with a soft thump. It's not a sweet and neat reunion kiss — it's fast and messy. It's desperate and urgent as they bump and clack against one another trying to find their rhythm.

"We shouldn't be doing this," Kurt murmurs when they pull apart for air, his body betraying him as his hands travel down to Blaine's waistband.

"Do you want to stop?" Blaine asks, finding the strength in him to still his hand where it rests on Kurt's lower back.

"No," Kurt answers without hesitation, and with that they're on each other once again.

Kurt pushes back against Blaine slightly, guiding him until the backs of Blaine's legs hit Santana's bed. They collapse onto the bed together, Kurt popping open Blaine's pants button before sliding on top of him. Their hands move quickly along one another, remapping each other's skin. Blaine hooks his fingers through Kurt's belt loops, tugging down the skin-tight material to mid-thigh, running his calloused palms along the smooth skin of Kurt's thighs.

They don't have the coordination to do much more than rut desperately against one another, moaning at the too hot glide of bare skin against bare skin. They moan shamelessly, too overwhelmed to care who might hear or think about the consequences of what they're about to do. Kurt is able to break from Blaine's spell long enough to shove his underwear down and pull Blaine's pants down enough that their cocks spring free in the space between them. He slides back on top of Blaine, their cocks pressed firm side by side as he rolls his hips down against Blaine's.

"Holy shit," Blaine murmurs against Kurt's jaw.

Holy shit indeed. Kurt doesn't realize how desperately he's been craving Blaine until he hears the sweet sound of Blaine crying out his name in his ear. It's nearly enough for him to reach his climax embarrassingly early, but he holds out. There's no coordination as they move and grind against one another — it's all about the fire hot friction their cocks are aching for. It doesn't take long for both of them to become incomprehensible messes. They're kissing open-mouthed, wet and hot, panting into each other's mouths as they come together.

Kurt doesn't even mind the sticky mess drying on his bare torso as he comes down from his high. He collapses beside Blaine, their chests heaving in sync. There are so many things that are wrong about everything that they're doing, but all they do is lay there. The sensible part of Kurt's brain screams at him to stand up, pull himself together, and get out before anything else can go wrong. Instead he smiles like a child as Blaine takes his hand and places a featherlight kiss to his knuckles.

"Are we okay?" Blaine asks as he continues to press kisses to each of Kurt's fingertips. Kurt can sense the tension in Blaine's shoulders as he waits for Kurt's reply.

They shouldn't be okay. Things aren't okay. Their classmates are drinking and partying just a few feet away from them, their significant others are waiting for them downstairs. They're supposed to be mending their supposed friendship, not fucking like rabbits on their friend's bed. They should be everything but okay — and yet, Kurt feels more content than he has in weeks.

"Yeah, we are."

There are countless things they need to talk about — Adam and Quinn, and their friends they need to deal with, there's Blaine's parents and Kurt's dad. But this time, something is different. Kurt can sense it in the way that Blaine blinks up at him and leans in to kiss him. This time they'll talk about all of it, he knows it.


	12. Chapter 12

Blaine Anderson considers himself a very lucky man. He can count the handful of hardships he's been through in his 18 years on one hand, but couldn't possibly count all of the good people and things that are a part of his life. There are his parents, of course — so wonderful and supportive of all of his endeavors. They shower him and his older brother with praise and encouragement whenever possible, always reminding them to be true to themselves. It's a rare luxury to have such wonderful parents, and Blaine is well aware of that. Every day that he defies them by not being true to himself, he reasons that it's for their own good. As much as he loves his parents, he doesn't know where their support ends — where they draw the line on letting Blaine be his own self.

Then there's Quinn — beautiful and generous and thoughtful Quinn Fabray, beloved by all her peers, and with good reason. Blaine will always remember meeting Quinn for the first time — seeing her across the song circle at youth group and thinking that she was the embodiment of a fairytale princess. In many ways, she lives up to this childish impression — she's no damsel in distress, but she comes to Blaine's aid in more ways than she knows.

And of course, there's Kurt. Kurt who, quite literally, changes Blaine's entire world. He didn't think it was possible to be so totally shaken down by one person, but Kurt Hummel is a hurricane — he crashes into Blaine's life and destroys everything he's ever known, in the best possible way.

Sitting on Santana Lopez's bed, coming down from an orgasm and holding Kurt in his arms — despite being convinced that Kurt was never going to talk to him again — Blaine's mind begins to spin as he considers how much things have changed. Less than a year ago, he was nothing but a wide-eyed and terrified transfer student. He was still rattled by his sudden uprooting from Dalton, the all boys boarding school he'd called home for the past two and a half years. He'd barely had a chance to say goodbye to his friends before his parents arrived to pick him up, urging him to hurry up and get his things loaded into the car.

Many students had left Dalton over the course of the semester. Blaine had watched as his friends began to disappear one by one, some without warning, heading back to their respective homes to finish out the year. It had been scary — rumors swirling about the spread of a nasty disease, but the truth had been far more frightening. Mr. Vogel, the universally loved and respected music teacher and director of the Warblers, had been accused of inappropriate behavior with a number of students.

Blaine, an esteemed member of the Warblers, couldn't say he was surprised about the accusations. Mr. Vogel had been a 'hands-on' instructor — and Blaine would be lying if he said he wasn't made uncomfortable by some of the ways Mr. Vogel conducted himself. There were times when he would rest his hands on Blaine's shoulders, gently massaging the loose muscles, and even through the thick material of his Dalton blazer, the touch felt far too close and intimate. But Mr. Vogel was revered — a Dalton Academy icon. So Blaine never said anything, he didn't want to cause trouble.

The news had come out in a school-wide email blast, going out to parents as well as students — the content of the email vague, citing the reasoning for terminating Mr. Vogel as an 'ongoing investigation.' Blaine's mom called, asking for more details within twenty minutes of receiving the email — he had been unenrolled from Dalton within the hour. He can still remember the not subtle murmurs between his parents as they drove Blaine back from Dalton for the final time — whispers of how disgusting Mr. Vogel was, and how they couldn't believe they'd trusted him to chaperone Blaine and the rest of the Warblers on a weekend retreat. He'd swallowed hard, waiting for them to say something about Mr. Vogel's preference in male underage students, but they kept their comments to themselves once they realized Blaine could hear them.

Quinn, in many ways, is a godsend. His parents would certainly agree, at least. When they ran into one another after youth group it felt like they'd been thrown right back to elementary school, giggling and chatting excitedly as they rushed to catch up on all of the things that had happened since Blaine had left Lima for Westerville. Quinn gushed with excitement at the news that Blaine would be transferring to McKinley, noting the way Blaine tensed when she'd asked about Dalton. She never brought it up again. They schedule a time to catch up properly over coffee, and for Quinn to give Blaine a lay of the McKinley land, and their coffee dates quickly became a regular occurence. They were able to pick their childhood friendship up right where it left off, both amazed at how easily they still got along with one another.

It didn't take long for Quinn to confide in Blaine about her break up with Finn. She'd been more impacted by it than Blaine would've expected — every time she so much as mentioned his name, she'd nearly been moved to tears. Blaine ran into Finn a handful of times in the halls at McKinley and didn't see what all the fuss was about, but Quinn was his friend, and he's there for her regardless. When Quinn suggested that Blaine try out for the football team, he knew that she was just trying to help him get settled at McKinley. Being the new kid wasn't easy, especially in the middle of the school year — finding a niche would help him get settled, find his place.

Becoming the quarterback of the team, ousting Finn of the coveted title, wasn't part of the plan at all. Becoming Quinn's boyfriend wasn't part of the plan either, but it was the way that things went. Coach Beiste quickly noticed Blaine's potential after his initial try out, and it only took two weeks before he was bumped up to the top slot and Finn was dropped down to linebacker. Rumbles of a rivalry between the two began to crop up, and suddenly Blaine became more than just the mysterious mid-year transfer: he was the Blaine Anderson.

Despite what Quinn would go on to tell others, she asked Blaine out first. They were huddled together for their usual coffee date, casually discussing an upcoming quiz when she abruptly changed the subject.

"Have you ever considered giving us a try?" she asked, keeping her eyes on her cup as she stirred her oat milk latte.

"Uh… us as in a romantic us?" Blaine replied, suddenly feeling incredibly warm all over.

"Yeah. It would make sense… the quarterback and the head cheerleader. A vomit-worthy cliche," she said with a chuckle, blinking up at Blaine.

He could see that she was uncharacteristically nervous, biting her lip the way she always did when she was under pressure. He could feel himself beginning to breathe too quickly for his own good as he struggled to just come out and say the words he'd been hiding from everyone, including himself, for months now.

"I-I don't — I mean I'm not — I-I just… am… not sure that… that would be something I'm… right for," he stumbled out, shaking his head and preparing to apologize profusely for making such a fool out of himself when Quinn placed a soft, gentle hand on top of his.

"Hey, it's okay," she said, her voice soft and soothing as she leaned in close, whispering just between the two of them. "Are you… attracted to boys?" she asked quietly, treading lightly.

"I'm not sure," Blaine replied nervously, eyes fixed on Quinn's delicate fingernails, painted pink. "Maybe? I kind of dated this one girl, freshman year, but it didn't really mean anything. There was a guy I had a class with that maybe… I don't know. I don't think I've ever felt anything about anyone before, so… I don't know." He shrugged lamely, frustrated with himself for failing to find the right words to convey how he felt. He'd spent countless hours in his bedroom, alone with his thoughts, wondering over and over if what he felt for his Biology lab partner was more than just friendship — only to still be as confused as ever nearly six months later.

"It's okay not to know," Quinn assured him. "You're allowed to take risks, experiment until you know what you want." She squeezed his hand in hers and smiled, squeezing and squeezing until he returned the smile.

"You're pretty wise for a seventeen year old girl," he teased her, knocking his shoulder against hers.

"It's one of my many, many talents," she replied with a wink and they laughed, both blushing as they pulled their hands back to themselves.

In two weeks they became a couple. Quinn's proposition hung over Blaine every waking moment of every day — ringing in his ears during the day, and echoing out in his dreams while he slept. It wasn't a bad idea, really. Blaine wasn't entirely confident that he was attracted to men — he'd been pretty much surrounded by them 24/7 at Dalton, and things with Susan his freshman year had been kind of fun — maybe they had just lacked chemistry. Quinn was skeptical at first, repeatedly asking Blaine if this was what he really wanted until he finally silenced her with a kiss, and then another, and another, and another…

Quinn wasn't entirely convinced even in the first few weeks of their relationship. She asked Blaine countless times if he was still okay with everything, if he wanted to call things off before they went too far. For the first time ever, she surrendered the reins in her relationship and let her partner take the lead. Blaine assured her with each passing day that yes, he wanted this, and that yes, he was okay.

Blaine was amazed at how easy it was to be with Quinn. In many ways, nothing about their relationship changed. They kept their usual coffee dates, and now made it a habit of hanging out at each other's homes after school. They watched movies, gossiped, played board games, worked on homework. They did everything they would have done before, but with their parents watchful eyes gazing at them every few minutes.

Their parents were huge fans of the sudden change. His parents were already head over heels for Quinn, and were overjoyed when they finally announced their relationship to them. Quinn's family were similarly excited, going so far as to throw a celebratory dinner in their honor — much to Quinn's chagrin.

The biggest change in their relationship was who they were at school. In no time at all, Blaine became Quinn Fabray's boyfriend — and Quinn heavily leaned into his new title. She linked their fingers the moment they saw one another, kissing him in greeting and whenever appropriate throughout the day. The moment their peers turned away, she'd let him go, smiling at him appreciatively before heading about her day.

Blaine's teammates had teased him mercilessly at first — deeming him Quinn Fabray's flavor of the month, jeering at him as they took bets on how long their relationship would last. He stood up for Quinn each time her name came up, warning that they could say whatever they want about him, but to keep her name out of their mouths. He quickly understood why relationships played such a large role in Quinn's life — the McKinley student body was merciless. If Quinn wasn't on top, they wouldn't be afraid to pull her down and eat her alive.

Blaine made it clear to Quinn early on that he wasn't a fan of his fellow teammates, her ex-boyfriend, Finn, included. She, being the angel she was, made it her mission to find him a new set of friends. She started off by introducing him to her squad: Brittany, Santana, and Kurt, her best friend and co-captain. The moment he and Kurt met wasn't love at first sight, or anything magical and beautiful by any means. In fact, Blaine had all but forgotten Kurt's name by their second meeting.

Even after Blaine managed to find the select few members of the football team that weren't complete dirtbags, Quinn continued to invite him along to outings with her friends, wanting him to feel welcome in every possible way. Blaine never wanted to disappoint Quinn — he still doesn't — so he always went along.

After three weeks of tagging along on various shopping outings, gossip sessions and manicure appointments, he saw Kurt for the first time. The first thing he noticed was the sharp slope of Kurt's jaw. He brushed it off as admiration — it was clear that Kurt had an objectively attractive face, and he was simply examining it. The next thing he noticed was the taper of Kurt's waist, his eyes drifting to it one afternoon when the hem of Kurt's Cheerio top rode up during practice. His eyes raked in as much of the smooth, pale skin as he could — imagining the way it would feel to glide his hands lower and lower and…

By week four, Blaine realized that Kurt was a problem — a frustrating, haughty, agonizingly attractive problem. There were only a handful of weeks left in the semester — all he had to do was not completely fumble things and he would be fine. And miraculously enough, he managed to pull it off. He kept his eyes and thoughts to himself, refusing to allow himself even a glance Kurt Hummel's way, focusing on his studies and spending time with Quinn instead.

The summer before senior year was blissful. Blaine's brother, Cooper, decided to take a break from the Los Angeles lifestyle to spend a summer in Ohio. They drove out to new cities for baseball games, quirky landmarks, and even once to find a real life ghost town. Whatever time Blaine didn't spend with Cooper was spent with Quinn. Every moment with Quinn was, and always will be, a blessing. They went together so well that hours could go by and neither of them would notice. He wasn't sure if he was falling in love with her — the concept of love still so abstract, even at eighteen years old — but in those summer months, he quickly realized that Quinn was one of the most important people in his life.

Blaine didn't expect his relationship with Quinn to evolve the way that it did in those summer months. Behind closed doors they shared the occasional kiss, the occasional lingering touch, but seldom much more. One sticky afternoon they were spread out on his bed, AC cranked as high as it could, watching movie after movie until their joints began to ache. In between movies Quinn leaned over and kissed him — harder than their usual soft, chaste kisses. He leaned back in surprise, unsure what it meant. Quinn held her breath as she awaited Blaine's response. He leaned in and kissed her back, wanting to know if anything would shift, or change. It does, in a way — he can feel something stirring in the pit of his stomach, so he kisses her again and again and again.

"Should we be doing this?" he asked in between kisses, his palm resting on her thigh.

"It doesn't have to mean anything," she offered, breathless.

"Okay," he replied, and that was that.

Taking things further only made them grow closer, their need for one another growing stronger, and Blaine began to tell himself that this was the way things were meant to be. Simply put, things were perfect.

Then, Kurt Hummel returned. Blaine had sparingly tagged along to Quinn's outings with her friends over the summer, spending the majority of his time with Cooper or at his summer job at the Lima Cineplex. The first time Blaine saw Kurt in months, at the Cheerio's state-wide competition, he knew that what he had felt wasn't over. It reignited almost immediately, warm in the pit of his stomach as he watched Kurt gracefully leap, bound, dance, and smile his way across the auditorium. It took all he had in him not to break out into a sweat just at the mere sight of him — doing what he did best, charming a crowd and making them eat out of the palm of his hand. There was no denying it from that moment on, he had it bad for Kurt Hummel.

"We should probably call Quinn or Santana to let us out," Kurt mumbles against the material of Blaine's shirt, knocking him out of his daze.

"Right, yeah," he replies, letting Kurt unfurl himself from the crook of his arm before sitting up and putting himself back together.

The pleasant buzz he's been riding for the past hour weighs heavier on him without the added adrenaline of needing to kiss Kurt as quickly as possible. He struggles to get his belt through the infuriatingly tiny final loop, groaning as he trips himself up and has to start over yet again. His breath hitches when Kurt's fingers are suddenly on him, knocking his own hand out of the way. Kurt does up his belt with expert precision, keeping his thumb pressed firm against the buckle as he looks up at Blaine with a smirk. It takes an inhuman amount of will not to pull Kurt in and drag him down for more, but they both know they can't risk spending more time 'reconciling' their relationship without arousing suspicion.

Once summoned, Quinn and Santana arrive within minutes, exchanging smug grins as they block the doorway.

"Have you boys learned how to play nice?" Quinn asks, casting knowing looks at both of them.

"Yes, your highness. Can we be released from this poorly decorated prison now?" Kurt drawls, bored of their antics.

"I should keep you locked in here for that, pendejo," Santana warns, pointing an accusatory finger at Kurt.

Quinn takes Santana's hand in hers and lowers it down to their sides. "You two are free to go. But if you decide to act like children again, you're going right back into time out," she warns before tugging Santana away and down the stairs to return to the party.

Blaine gestures for Kurt to take the lead and head out first, gulping when Kurt turns on his heel and faces him, their faces suddenly dangerously close.

"I'll see you downstairs," he whispers, breath warm against Blaine's liquor sticky, kiss wet lips. He turns back with a devious smirk, leaving Blaine trembling and desperate for more.

* * *

There had always been a clause of sorts in Blaine and Quinn's relationship. Quinn assured him on only the second day of their relationship that if at any point he realized that this wasn't what he wanted, that they would end things, no drama, no questions asked. At first, Blaine didn't anticipate he'd ever need to end things with Quinn — things were going far better than either of them had expected, and they genuinely cared for one another. What else could he possibly need?

The first time Blaine considered putting an end to things with Quinn was moments after he came down from the most intense orgasm he'd ever given himself. He had dropped Quinn off at her house after going out for a celebratory dinner with her family after the Cheerios' competition, and rocketed to his bedroom to relieve himself of the aching that had been building in his jeans for hours. He didn't want to admit to himself at first — he tried to trick himself into believing that it was Quinn who had managed to turn him on so badly he could barely stand, that it was the memory of Quinn doing splits in midair that rampaged his mind as he stroked himself as fast as he could. But he couldn't lie to himself — he could not push away all the visions of Kurt.

Blaine came up with a plan after that evening — a plan to gently end things with Quinn and ask for her blessing to pursue Kurt… her best friend… He quickly revised his plan to just ending things with Quinn first, then asking for her blessing once some time had passed. What was the point in potentially damaging his friendship with Quinn over a boy he wasn't even sure had any interest in him?

But of course, his best laid plans never came to fruition. The day he planned to have the talk with Quinn, she showed up to their usual coffee date in tears, revealing that she'd had yet another fight with Finn about the way their relationship fell apart. Blaine held her and stroked her hair and shot dirty looks at anyone looking their way as he sat back and let Quinn air it all out. It clearly wasn't the right time to end things, so he didn't.

The second time Blaine wanted to try to broach the conversation was after he kissed Kurt for the first time — it was just a childish game of spin the bottle, but Blaine couldn't deny what he was feeling any longer, when his lips were still tingling three days after the kiss. The second attempt went just as badly as the first. He dawdled around the subject, beating around the bush so discreetly that Quinn never caught on as to what he was trying to say. So he decided to try again another day.

Another day never comes. Only a few days after his failed second attempt, Quinn came to Blaine in tears once again, but this time the tears weren't for Finn Hudson. News that her older sister, Frannie, was on academic probation for the remainder of her semester at Brown had finally traveled back to her parents. They were livid beyond belief, berating Frannie over the phone for nearly a full hour, criticizing her choices and threatening to stop her tuition payments. When they were done ranting themselves hoarse, they turned their attention to Quinn — warning her to never follow in her disappointing sister's footsteps. They said they were grateful they still had their perfect Quinn, their perfect darling girl.

Quinn had sobbed and sobbed until she fell asleep in Blaine's arms. In between sobs, she let out all of her worries — worries that she would never live up to her parents dreams for her, worries that she would never be the perfect girl that they wanted, worries that in time, they'd turn on her the same way they had on Frannie, who had once been perfect, too.

Kissing Kurt for the second time had been a moment of weakness. Blaine knew better than to pursue his feelings for Kurt any further — especially when it was so clear that what Quinn needed most was consistency in her life. But he'd had too much to drink, and he couldn't find it in him to ignore the way Kurt would look his way anymore. He was sure now, Kurt was as interested in him as he was in Kurt.

Kissing Kurt wound up being a bigger mistake than he ever could've imagined. Kissing Kurt opened the door to a world he had not yet explored. Finally, he understood the blind hot passion of wanting someone so badly you'd do anything just to get a little bit more. It was the clarity he'd been looking for for months. In no time at all, he was in over his head — so enamored with Kurt he couldn't bear to put an end to things and return to his so-called normal life.

He told himself it was alright if he pushed things just a little bit further — Quinn had said there would be no hard feelings if the time ever came to put an end to things. He wouldn't tell her that he'd started pursuing her best friend, of course not. He could ease her into the idea of them — everything one step at a time, when the time was right. But for months there had never been a right time.

It felt crass and cruel, trying to figure out the best time for someone to receive upsetting news. He didn't want to have to think about the emotional state Quinn might be in, evaluating how much she had on her plate and whether she was in a stable enough place to lose the one consistency that she had in her life. He knew that he had to, that it wasn't fair to her to keep something that wasn't real going on for longer than it should have to. He knew that they'd both be better on the other side of the truth, both of them free to pursue relationships rooted in reality, but the truth was so much more complicated than he had ever anticipated.

Blaine did his best to focus on coming clean in the aftermath of his falling out with Kurt. He wanted to wait to reach back out to him until he had ended things with Quinn — so he could prove to Kurt that things had changed this time, they could start again with a fresh slate. He wanted to keep to their plan to come clean to Quinn when she was back from her trip. He texted her once she was back, asking if she wanted to come over to his place. She replied that she was tired from travelling and would see him at school. So, he asked again several days later, but Quinn was busy again, and again, and again.

Quinn became distant in a way she never had before in those few weeks. She hardly responded to his texts, and when she did, her responses were clipped and concise. At school, she remained the same as ever, painting them as the perfect couple when in front of others, and letting him go the moment they were alone. He couldn't get a moment of alone time with her, no matter how hard he tried. At one point, he insisted on talking to her after their respective practices, explaining that he had something he needed to talk about. She brushed him off, saying she had a family commitment and they could talk about it over the phone instead. He turned the offer down — as badly as he wanted to tell the truth, he didn't want to do it over a phone call. He wasn't sure what had changed between them, and began to wonder if perhaps Quinn no longer needed the comfort of their relationship either.

Kurt rehashes their previous plan in the weeks following Santana's party. They're wrapped up together under the spare blanket Blaine keeps in the back of his car, parked in an empty parking lot behind a Walmart, a picture of modern romance. Kurt toys with Blaine's fingers as he speaks, needing something to occupy his hands as he thinks. They go over timing — Blaine doesn't divulge that he and Quinn have fallen into some kind of strange limbo, but makes it clear that he's ready to talk to her.

But Kurt wants to wait. Now that he's involved with Adam, he doesn't want to end things carelessly — Adam is sweet, he explains, there's no need for his heart to get broken in the process. He wants to take it slow, let his relationship fizzle out until they mutually decide it's alright to call things off. Blaine reluctantly agrees.

For a brief moment, he considers protesting — he wants to finally come clean after months of telling himself that he's not ready. But then Kurt looks up at him, eyes wide with fear — it's the first time he's ever seen Kurt truly afraid. He'd seen Kurt pushed to his emotional limit, breaking down in tears, but never like this. He's scared, just as scared as Blaine was months earlier. He cups Kurt's jaw before leaning in to kiss him softly, running his thumb along his lower lip when they part.

"It's going to be okay," he whispers, and for once, he actually believes that it will be.

* * *

As becomes the norm for all things in Kurt and Blaine's relationship, things don't go according to plan. The first weekend of December, Kurt heads off to New York for his NYADA audition. It's all he talks about during their few stolen moments together, agonizing over his song choice and what to wear. He manages to make himself so nervous that he begins to pick apart his already completed virtual NYU audition. What if his internet connection had lagged and made it look like he wasn't able to dance in time with the music? What if he'd chosen an overdone monologue for the acting portion? Blaine listens intently, assuring him every single time that he's a shining star, and any instructor who can't see that too must be blind.

Blaine insists on driving Kurt to the airport Saturday morning, even if it means getting up at an ungodly hour to make sure Kurt is able to arrive two hours before his 6:30am flight. Kurt assures Blaine that it isn't necessary, he can arrange for a car to come get him and Blaine can spend his weekend sleeping in like a regular teenager. But Blaine can't be budged.

Kurt spends the car ride excitedly reading off his itinerary for the two day trip, going over every place he wants to visit. He didn't have enough money saved up to get tickets to any Broadway shows, but he does want to try his hand at rushing. He wants to see the Empire State building and the Brooklyn bridge and walk down Fifth Avenue, and visit the MoMA, and even go to Times Square, even if he knows it's a tourist trap. His excitement is infectious — Blaine is beyond exhausted, but he still grins as he listens to Kurt narrate as he browses Yelp for restaurants near where he'll be staying. He's hopeful that this means Kurt's nerves have finally begun to calm down, but when they step through the airport's revolving doors, Kurt tenses up again.

"I don't know if I can do this," he says under his breath, remaining frozen in place as his eyes fixate on the enormous 'Departures' board shining above them.

"Kurt, you know you can do this," Blaine assures, turning Kurt around to face him and holding him firmly by the shoulders. "Nobody deserves this more than you."

Kurt's eyes glaze over as he smiles weakly, discreetly wiping at the corners of his eyes when Blaine reaches into his bag.

"And in case you start to doubt your star potential while you're over there…" Blaine riffles through his backpack, searching for the plastic container he'd tucked away the previous night. "I got you this."

He reaches for Kurt's hand, opening it up and placing the round, plastic container in the center of his palm. Inside the clear container is a thin gold bracelet, a sparkling star charm dangling from the end of the short chain. Blaine had spotted the bracelet while in the checkout line at the grocery store the previous weekend. He'd rushed over to the vending machine, scrambling to find enough quarters and dollar bills in his various pockets to purchase the little bracelet. It made him think of Kurt, its shine pulling him in the moment he laid eyes on it.

"It's just a cheap little thing, nothing too exciting, but I thought maybe—" Blaine is in the midst of defending his gift, suddenly feeling shy about his excitement over something so silly, when Kurt cuts him off with a kiss.

Blaine happily leans in to the sweet press of Kurt's lips, not caring whether anyone might be around to spot them, pulling Kurt in by the waist and holding him tight.

"Thank you," Kurt says quietly when they pull apart, reaching down to take Blaine's hand in his and giving it one final parting squeeze.

Blaine sighs as Kurt reluctantly pries himself away, watching as the other boy places a sweet kiss to the bracelet before tucking it away safely in his jacket pocket. Blaine waves at Kurt until he finally has to turn away so he doesn't trip over himself. He waits and watches Kurt's retreating form until he's completely gone from his line of sight, sighing as he makes his way back to his car. He cranks up the radio on the drive home and sings along louder than he usually would, grinning at every silly love song that plays along the way. Suddenly the concept of love doesn't seem so abstract anymore.

* * *

Miraculously, Blaine is able to make plans with Quinn for the first time in a month. He hadn't been expecting it, but when Quinn texted him Saturday afternoon asking if he was around, he responded at record speed that yes, he was free.

Their plans weren't particularly exciting — just dinner at Breadstix and a movie. They take a walk after the movie to stretch their legs, looping their arms together and huddling close together against the bitter chill of the approaching Winter. They spend most of the walk ranting about the movie — they'd gone with the latest blockbuster romcom with a plot as thin as the paper it was printed on. They agree that the lead actor was hardly swoon worthy, and that if the heroine spent half of the time she dedicated to gossiping with friends on her relationship, the movie could've easily shaved off another twenty minutes.

They manage to wander further away from the car than they'd expected, Quinn making the executive decision to rest on a nearby bench before they try to find their way back. Blaine happily obliges, sliding an arm around her as she rests her head on his shoulder. It feels so much like the way things used to be, stress free and fun. For a fleeting second it feels as though nothing at all has changed between them.

Being with Quinn is easy, it's always been easy. It had once even felt a little bit exhilarating — finding someone he got along with so well. Blaine has felt true exhilaration now and knows that's not what he once felt — it was relief.

They sit, wrapped up in one another, in comfortable silence, admiring the last remaining copper leaves of Fall. When Blaine turns to look at Quinn, at her perfect, beautiful face, the words just come out.

"We need to talk," he says before he can stop himself.

Quinn's brow furrows and her nose wrinkles as she looks up at him in confusion. "About what?"

Blaine pauses, biting his lip. He considers his words carefully, but Quinn doesn't need an explanation. She sits up, shifting herself out from under Blaine's arms. "Oh," she says quietly — she already knows what's coming.

Blaine takes in a deep breath. Quinn reaches out and takes his hand in hers, the same way she did all those months ago, and he finally says it.

"I've met someone and I… I think I want to try to take things further… with him."

He places unnecessary emphasis on the pronoun, he knows that Quinn knows what to expect. He bites his tongue and holds his breath as he waits for Quinn's response. She presses her lips into a thin line, nodding as she runs her thumb along Blaine's knuckles.

"Well, it was bound to happen sooner or later," she replies, Blaine letting out his held breath all at once and coughing in surprise.

"I'm sorry," Blaine apologizes quickly, but Quinn shakes her head.

"Don't be. You don't ever have to be sorry, we talked about this."

"That was months ago," he replies, ducking his head. He doesn't want to continue looking at the downturned corners of Quinn's mouth.

"That doesn't change anything." She releases Blaine's hand to cup his jaw with both hands, he shivers under the touch of her chilled fingertips. "I promised you that if you wanted to end this, that we would end it. No drama, remember?" Her touch is cool and gentle, wiping away the single tear that manages to escape and roll down Blaine's cheek.

"I don't deserve you," he whispers, sniffling and finally looking up to meet Quinn's eyes.

"I didn't deserve you either," she replies, returning her hands to his, squeezing them tightly. There's a distinct sadness in her eyes, that dull sheen that he knows all too well.

"You're sure that you're okay with this? We don't have to tell anyone at McKinley yet, we can take things slow," he offers, hoping the reassurance will dash that sadness away.

"I'm fine," she reassures. "I'm happy for you. And I want to meet this mysterious guy who's managed to woo you," she teases, nudging her arm against Blaine's ribs.

He ducks his head once again, this time to hide his pink cheeks. "You'll meet him eventually," he assures, trying not to ignore the irony of it all. Quinn knows this 'mysterious guy' far better than she can even imagine.

"Promise me you're alright?" Blaine holds up his pinky between them, Quinn chuckling quietly as she loops her pinky through his.

"Promise," she reassures, leaning in to kiss their linked pinkies for luck.

They pull their hands back to themselves and let the silence stretch between them. It's not uncomfortable — they both need some silence to process. Quinn leans her head back onto Blaine's shoulder, letting out a sigh that comes out in a cloud of white smoke.

"It was nice while it lasted though," she says with a soft laugh. Blaine can't not smile when she's laughing.

"It was really, really nice."


	13. Chapter 13

New York City is everything Kurt imagined and more. He gazes out the window of his taxi on the drive to his hotel like an ingenue in the opening shots of a coming of age movie. He takes in every skyscraper and hot dog cart eagerly, buzzing with excitement to finally explore it all. He doesn't see much of the city on Saturday — he wants to conserve his energy for his audition. He catches up on sleep before making his way to the NYADA campus, only a quick 15 minute walk from where he's staying. There's a sizable crowd gathered in the hall outside of the auditorium where auditions are being held — there's an overwhelming sense of tension in the air as everyone does their best not to let their nerves show.

The excitement of being in the greatest city in the world had helped calm Kurt's nerves at first, but when he's surrounded by dozens of other NYADA hopefuls, it comes creeping back. Some people are holding stacks of different headshots, Kurt frowning as he looks at his own meager pile. It's not the best photo he's ever taken, but there's a lack of quality headshot photographers in Lima. Some people have brought along instruments, mostly guitars — but one boy is sporting a viola, guitar, and trumpet case. A couple of people break off from the group to do vocal warm ups further down the hall. Kurt swallows hard as the melodies of their warm ups begin to float back to where he's sitting — they all sound incredible.

He isn't as nervous once he's in the audition room, his competition out of sight and out of mind. A panel of seven instructors ask him simple questions, questions he's already had the foresight to prepare for. NYADA's academic dean, Professor Carmen Tibideaux, doesn't ask any questions herself. Instead, she keeps a critical eye on Kurt's every move — by the time he's ready to move on to the actual performance portion of the audition, he realizes he has yet to see her blink.

When it comes to the performance itself, Kurt has everything under control. This is what he's best at, and he knows it. He takes one last calming breath, closes his eyes, and tells himself that this is just another performance. He always gives 110% for _every _performance, and his rendition of _Not the Boy Next Door _is no exception. He lands every note and every move, even a high-kick jump off the piano that he had been worried about in practice. He smiles and winks at the audience and can feel his heart race when they begin to clap and holler, cheering him on. When he comes up from his final bow, the other members of the panel turn to Professor Tibideaux expectantly.

"Mr. Hummel, I'm very impressed," is all she says, and it's the greatest praise Kurt has ever received.

Kurt spends the rest of the trip floating on cloud nine — every single little thing is wonderful and amazing and he's truly never been happier. He spends the rest of his Saturday afternoon wandering up to the Upper West Side, then across to the East Side, and all the way back down to the village.

By the time he finally gets back to his hotel, he's so exhausted he passes on dinner entirely in favor of collapsing onto his bed. He sends a text to his dad, letting him know that he's back at his hotel in one piece. While his dad had given up on his initial plan to join Kurt on his trip when one of his employees had to take a sudden medical leave, he still insisted that Kurt give him hourly updates to ensure that he was okay.

Before crawling under the covers for the night, he posts his favorite photo of the day on Instagram — a photo he'd asked a passing stranger to take of him sitting on the old castle steps of the Museum of Natural History. He aimlessly scrolls for a few more minutes, watching the likes come rolling in. Santana comments a fire emoji, Quinn a heart eye emoji, and Brittany warns him to keep an eye out for King Kong. Adam keeps his comment simple, a single pink heart. He smiles, liking each of his friends' comments before turning off his phone for the evening. His phone is plugged in on the nightstand and he's shut off the lights, prepared for some much needed sleep, when his phone buzzes several times in a row. His brow furrows as he glances at the time — who could possibly be texting him at almost midnight? He winces at the harsh light of his phone screen in the darkness, squinting to try to make out the messages. It's a series of texts from Blaine.

_You can NOT post a picture like that when you're hundreds of miles away_

_Are you aware of how insanely gorgeous you are?_

_I just really, really want to kiss you right now._

_Oh shit sorry, you're probably asleep_

_Well, I really hope I didn't just wake you up. I know you value your beauty sleep. If you're reading this in the morning: good morning, you're insanely gorgeous, the city is very lucky to have you this weekend :)_

Kurt's aching, tired body is reawakened as he reads the messages over and over and over. The butterflies in his stomach have taken flight and fluttered their way throughout the rest of his body. He's grinning like an idiot as he runs his thumb across the text message, as though it brings him closer to Blaine. He struggles to come up with a reply — how does one respond to something so sweet and amazing it makes you tear up?

_This did wake me up, but you're forgiven. Wish you were here._

This time, he sets his phone to _Do Not Disturb_ and tucks it away for good. When his alarm blares the following morning and he picks up his phone with a groan, Blaine's response makes all of his morning disgruntlement melt away.

_Me too. Night, beautiful. _

* * *

The remaining two days of the trip fly by. The city gets its first snowfall of the season on Sunday, and while Kurt is no stranger to snow, he spends fifteen minutes gazing out his window at the glistening streets. While at first the snow is exciting, it quickly derails his plans to continue exploring the city on foot. The streets are slippery and icy, even after the bit of snow that fell melts away. He sticks to the subway instead, and only screws up once, much to his own amazement. He's able to get last minute tickets to an Off-Off-Broadway show for a reasonable price — it's not the greatest piece of theater he's ever seen, but it's miles better than any of the Lima Community Theatre productions he's been to. Even the imperfect parts of the trip are perfect. By the time he's repacking his things Monday afternoon to head off to the airport, every bit of him is thrumming with the desperate desire to make this city his home.

He drags his feet through JFK, sulking the entire flight and car ride back home. He'd skipped school for the day — only managing to justify it to his dad when it was evident Monday afternoon flights were significantly cheaper than Sunday flights — and he's already dreading the mountain of work he'll have to catch up on from just one day away. His dad meets him at the airport to drive him home and pries him for every detail of his trip. He can tell his dad means well — it's the most enthusiasm he's shown for something Kurt's interested in in years, but he's too worn down to muster up any energy.

The hour and a half plane ride gave him plenty of time to sit alone with his thoughts, his nerves coming back in full force, evolving into an angrier beast. He picks apart his audition until he can barely remember what _actually _happened and what he _wished _had happened. He should've incorporated more high kicks into his dance number, he should've picked something that better showcased his extensive range — hundreds of doubts and what ifs begin to drown any other thoughts. In two days, he's completely fallen in love with New York and NYADA, and the fear of not being good enough for either of them is overwhelming.

Once back home he asks if he can be excused from dinner, explaining that he's exhausted from travelling and wants to go straight to bed. His dad reluctantly agrees, shooting his son a suspicious look as he shuffles down to his bedroom. Kurt throws his bags on the floor carelessly and buries himself in his pillows, fully intending to wallow in his insecurities and self-doubt until he's worried himself to sleep. He groans when he feels his phone begin to ring, considering ignoring the call and turning his phone off for the night, only to do a double take at the sight of Blaine's name flashing across the screen. Since when do he and Blaine talk on the phone? He doesn't talk to _anyone _on the phone. His already gloom-addled brain immediately jumps to the worst possible conclusion as he rockets up and answers the call.

"Hello?"

"Hey!" Blaine answers cheerfully. "Are you okay?" he tacks on, noting the tone of Kurt's voice.

"I assumed you were in a life threatening situation. Who calls people anymore?!" Kurt scolds, slumping back against his bed in relief.

"I'm sorry, I'm old fashioned," Blaine says with a chuckle. "Excited to be back in Lima?"

"Har har," Kurt replies with a roll of his eyes.

"I figured you'd say something like that. Actually… I was wondering if you were free tonight?"

Kurt sighs, pulling the quilt at the end of the bed around himself as he settles back against the pillows. "I'm sorry, Blaine, I'm really not in the mood for a clandestine rendezvous tonight." Turning down Blaine is disappointing — just hearing Blaine's voice has already improved his mood, but he really isn't in the mood to be groped in the back of Blaine's Prius, as fun as it always is.

"Well, I was actually hoping you could join me for dinner," Blaine proposes hesitantly.

Kurt quirks an eyebrow in interest. "Dinner? As in dinner out in the world?"

"Not exactly. I thought I could make us something at my place? My parents are out on a double date with the Fabray's tonight."

Kurt sighs, glancing up at the time on his alarm clock. It's not even seven yet — his plan to worry himself to sleep isn't as practical as he'd thought. While his limbs are still sore and in desperate need of some rest, the thought of a relaxed evening with Blaine _is _very appealing.

"Give me thirty minutes?" he asks, already beginning to haul himself off of his bed and towards his closet — he's definitely not showing up at Blaine's in his travel outfit.

"I'll be here."

* * *

It takes Kurt slightly longer than 30 minutes to make his way over to Blaine's — he underestimated how long he would need to freshen up. Traveling hasn't done his skin any favors, he's blotchy and clammy — his amended skin routine alone takes up 15 minutes. He's able to get past his dad fairly easily. He's halfway to the door when his dad calls out to him from the living room.

"What happened to being so exhausted you needed to skip dinner?"

"I'm going over to Santana's. Brittany told her that a freshman on the squad told her that someone started dating her—"

"Go, go, I get the picture," Burt cuts off. Kurt walks out the door with a smug grin — works every time.

Blaine opens the door for Kurt in record time, clad in a flour streaked apron. Kurt giggles, prepared to tease Blaine's getup when he's pulled in by the waist and silenced with a kiss.

"I don't think anyone's ever been _this _excited to see me," he teases once they pull apart, resting his hands on Blaine's chest. "Cute outfit," he adds, running his fingers along the frilled straps of the apron.

"And here I thought you'd approve of my decision to spare my new khakis from the consequences of me in the kitchen," he replies, pulling away to show off said new khakis.

Kurt nods in approval, he's especially fond of the way the pants hug Blaine's ass, but he'll save that observation for later. Kurt offers his assistance in the kitchen, but Blaine insists that he relax in the dining room until the food is ready. Kurt is adamant about helping, but when Blaine blocks his path to the kitchen, he resigns with a sigh and makes his way to the dining room. Plates and silverware have already been set up, along with a fresh flower arrangement in the center of the table and a set of candles on either side of the bouquet.

"Pulling out all the stops tonight, huh?" Kurt calls out to the kitchen as he sits down, laughing softly at the place card with his name on it, written in Blaine's loopy scrawl.

"I figured I should, considering that we're celebrating tonight," Blaine replies as he steps into the room to set down a plate of bruschetta in the center of the table.

"Celebrating what?"

Blaine smirks, leaning in to press a sweet kiss to Kurt's cheek before replying, "You."

"Me?" Kurt asks incredulously, only for Blaine to rush back to the kitchen.

Blaine doesn't answer until he's finished off several laps to and from the kitchen, bringing in various bowls and dishes of salad, mashed potatoes, and finally two plates of chicken and broccoli. Kurt is in awe at the effort Blaine's put into their meal, completely forgetting the question at hand when Blaine finally takes his seat across from Kurt and replies.

"We're celebrating you nailing your NYADA audition," he explains, pouring himself and Kurt half-full glasses of white wine.

Kurt tries his best not to frown, but inevitably fails. It's flattering that Blaine has so much confidence in him — more than he has in himself at the moment — but it just adds to the pressure. His stomach twists at the thought of Blaine's shoulders drooping and his smile faltering if Kurt doesn't get into NYADA, he's just another person he'd be disappointing.

"How do you know I nailed my audition?" He doesn't mean for it to come out as bitter as it does — he instantly regrets it when he sees the way Blaine flinches at his tone.

But Blaine is still unphased, he reaches across the table and takes Kurt's hand in his. "Because I know _you, _and you would never give NYADA less than perfection."

Kurt smiles weakly — the reassurance helps, and even if he's still not entirely convinced, he's able to put his worries to rest at least for the night. Right now he's alone with Blaine, and that's all he wants to focus on.

Blaine artfully avoids any mention of the audition itself, asking instead about Kurt's various adventures in the city. Kurt happily allows himself to relive the excitement and happiness he'd felt as he walked down the streets of Manhattan, recounting his 36-hour trip with as much detail as possible. Blaine sits back and listens happily, egging Kurt on with occasional questions and comments. Once they've finished off their (masterfully prepared, if Kurt says so himself) meal and loaded the dishwasher, they curl up on the couch, where Kurt walks Blaine through every single photo and video he'd taken during the trip.

When Kurt's finally reached the end of his camera roll, he rests his head on Blaine's arm with a contented sigh.

"Thank you for this, all of it. I really needed this," he says, giving Blaine a quick kiss on the cheek in thanks.

Blaine smiles, capturing Kurt's chin and pulling him in for a proper kiss instead. He wraps an arm around Kurt as they pull apart, pulling him in closer as they gaze at one another, pink-cheeked and completely enamored.

"I've talked your ear off long enough, tell me what you did this weekend." Kurt settles into the warmth of Blaine's body, making himself comfortable.

Blaine laughs, to Kurt's surprise, his brow furrowing as he waits for Blaine to explain. "Let's just say I had a very interesting weekend."

"Did you and Quinn go antiquing in Westerville again?"

"Not exactly," Blaine replies, the corner of his mouth quirking into a smile.

"What _does _Quinn think you're up to tonight? Shouldn't you two be following in your parents' footsteps and going on a weird parent-child triple date?" His words drip with sarcasm. He hardly has any time to dwell on the lingering clause in their own secret relationship — Quinn — when Blaine changes everything.

"Quinn knows what I'm up to," Blaine replies casually. Kurt shifts underneath his arm, giving him a confused look. "She knows that I'm on a date with a guy that I really, _really _like," he clarifies, looking down at Kurt with pure adoration.

"You… you told her?"

Blaine nods shyly. "I know you said that you wanted to wait, but we were sitting on this bench and I looked at her and it just… came out."

"How did she take it?" Kurt asks, lifting himself back up into a proper sitting position, biting down on one of his fingernails as he hangs off of Blaine's every word.

"Really well, actually. She really wants to meet this guy I like so much, but I think I can manage putting that off for awhile."

Kurt's heart races as he tries to reconcile with the bomb Blaine's just dropped on him. He did it, he finally told Quinn the truth — or at least part of the truth, the part that really mattered.

In the weeks following their 'intervention' at Santana's party, Kurt had done his best to be optimistic. Blaine had promised him profusely that this time, he would follow through on telling Quinn the truth. He had said it with such sincerity that Kurt couldn't find it in him not to believe him. Either he was finally going to do it, or he was the world's most convincing actor. But Kurt had already been fooled before. Blaine had had plenty of opportunities to come clean and he'd let them pass him by — what proof did he have that this time would be any different? He wanted to believe Blaine, he **really **wanted to, but he'd already gotten hurt before, he had to be on his guard. He's never been so happy to be proven wrong.

Blaine looks at him expectantly, but Kurt can't find any words worth saying, so he lets his body speak for him. He slides into Blaine's lap and cups his jaw firmly before crashing their lips together. The force of it knocks Blaine back against the pillows, his hands flying up to grasp Kurt's hips. It takes a second, but he kisses back with equal fervor, kissing the breath right out of him.

"I'm really proud of you," Kurt says when they pull apart to catch their breath.

Blaine's eyes turn glossy, as though they've welled up with tears — his lips tremble as he looks for the right thing to say, only for Kurt to kiss him again instead. They kiss for what feels like hours, letting their hands explore one another lazily. They're not frantically tearing at buttons or zippers, they're taking their time. They let it build and build until they're both whining into each kiss, leaning further into each touch — desperate for more but neither of them giving in.

"We should go upstairs," Blaine murmurs against Kurt's jaw, trailing his lips back up to nibble just right below Kurt's ear.

Kurt nods in agreement, but takes a few more seconds to let Blaine nibble and suck that spot he knows all too well before begrudgingly pulling away. They link fingers as they race up the stairs, Kurt pressing Blaine up against his bedroom door as soon as it closes behind them. Their hearts are beating fast and loud but they continue to take their time with one another, unpopping buttons at a leisurely pace, dragging zippers down bit by bit. Every step of the way is drawn out until they've reached their limit, crashing into one another for several seconds of desperate friction before they pull away to cool down again.

They even take their time getting to Blaine's bed, even though it's less than ten feet away. Kurt slowly slides down to his knees, keeping Blaine pinned to the door as he alternates taking his cock past his lips and sliding back up his chest to suck at his collarbone until he's begging for more. Just when Blaine is moments from reaching his finish, he pushes Kurt by the shoulder until he pulls off of him in confusion. He kneels down to kiss him hard and dirty, pushing him back until he's pressed against the carpet at the foot of Blaine's bed.

Blaine doesn't grant Kurt any mercy as he gives him the same treatment — an agonizing game of push and pull, bringing him so close to his climax he could cry every time Blaine pulls away with a smirk.

"Not so fun when it's the other way around," Blaine teases when Kurt lets out a high pitched whine as he pulls off of his cock for what feels like the thousandth time.

"If you loved me you would just let me come already," he says with a huff.

He doesn't mean to say it — not really, at least. He doesn't consider the weight of his words until they're already tumbling out of his mouth, too turned on and desperate for an orgasm to think properly. Blaine blinks up at him, looking as though he's just been asked to drive a car blindfolded. The hand that had been caressing his hip stills, his fingers digging almost harshly into his skin.

"I meant—" Kurt begins to backtrack, but Blaine cuts him off with a kiss that makes him see stars.

There's no more teasing this time, it's all about touch as Blaine slots himself between Kurt's legs, grinding his cock against Kurt's hip and letting Kurt's own cock rub warm against his stomach. They moan and tremble against their sweat slick skin, crying out in relief. Kurt, who was moments earlier wound tight as a coil, falls to pieces in mere seconds. When Blaine pulls away from him yet again he reaches out to grab Blaine's shoulder and yanks him back.

"Stay," he growls, too far gone to care about anything other than orgasming.

Blaine chuckles, leaning in and dragging his teeth along Kurt's jaw and up to his ear. "If you don't let me get up then how am I going to fuck you?" he whispers against Kurt's ear, sending chills down his spine.

Kurt whines, but releases his hold on Blaine regardless. Blaine smirks, rewarding Kurt with one last kiss before lifting himself off the ground and shuffling towards his nightstand. Kurt takes the opportunity to lift himself off of the ground, wincing at the ache in his shoulders from laying on such a firm surface for so long. He slides himself down across Blaine's bed, looking up at him with a coy smirk when he notes the look of distress on Blaine's face.

Before Kurt can question him, Blaine is kneeling beside him on the bed, cuping his cheek as he whispers, "Do you trust me?"

Kurt raises an eyebrow, not sure what Blaine is getting at. Blaine frowns as he grabs the box of condoms that lives in his nightstand drawer, shaking the box soundlessly — it's empty. Kurt's brows shoot up in understanding, his lips forming a silent O as he considers the situation.

"Do you trust me?" Blaine asks again, his voice lower this time as he sets the box aside and settles beside Kurt on the bed, bringing his hand to Kurt's waist.

"Yeah," Kurt answers breathlessly. He doesn't have to think on it for very long. Sex without a condom isn't something he's ever done before, nor is it something he's ever considered — but he knows it's something he wants with Blaine, to let himself trust Blaine completely, cross a new threshold together.

They take their time again, but this time it's not about teasing, it's about savouring. They kiss leisurely, dragging their lips down smooth plains of skin and muscle. They whisper each other's names in between kisses. They go as long as they can, relearning each other, so intertwined they can't tell where one ends and the other begins.

When Blaine finally pushes into him, the air is so heavy and thick Kurt is gasping for it. Blaine's lips are hot on his throat, tongue lapping at the curve of his Adam's apple as he pulls his hips back so slowly it makes Kurt dizzy. It feels different, Blaine bare inside of him. It's so intimate in the simplest of ways — he gasps quietly at the sensation, feeling incredibly vulnerable and raw and _safe. _

Kurt's not sure how, but Blaine manages to keep his hips at a slow, steady pace. Kurt lifts his hips up several times, trying to meet Blaine's hips and force him deeper, but Blaine holds him down tight against the mattress — he wants to make this last. But Kurt can only take it all for so long — his cock aching, trapped between their bodies. He's getting just the slightest bit of friction with each thrust of Blaine's hips, but it's never enough and he's sure he'll pass out if he doesn't get _something _soon.

"Blaine, please," Kurt pleads, holding Blaine's bicep in a vice grip.

Blaine pulls back from the crook of Kurt's neck, stills his hips as he gazes down at Kurt. Kurt all but begs when Blaine leans back, pulling out of Kurt entirely — the drag of his cock sliding out of him so blissful, and then so crushingly empty. He's prepared to offer Blaine anything he wants if it means he'll finish what he's started, but he doesn't need to. Blaine takes him by the hips, gripping him so tightly it hurts — though he doesn't mind, it helps keep his orgasm at bay. Before Kurt can protest or plead any longer, Blaine flips him over onto his knees with ease, pulling Kurt back by the hips before sliding back into him in one smooth thrust.

Blaine's fingers lock on Kurt's shoulder, pulling him back to meet each thrust. Kurt's head falls forward, moaning into the sweat damp sheets. The change is so sudden — Blaine's hips pounding into him three times faster than he has all night, his muscles aching and skin stinging from the harsh slap of Blaine's skin on his and it feels _amazing. _He doesn't care that he's moments from his climax after what feels like no time at all — he's breathlessly begging Blaine for more and more, up until the very last second.

In one last surprise, Blaine releases his hold on Kurt's shoulder and snakes his arm down to Kurt's chest. He pushes on him slightly, urging Kurt to sit up. Blaine stills his hips, pulling a whine from Kurt as he slowly lifts himself up, pressing his back flush to Blaine's chest, practically seated in Blaine's lap. Blaine's lips trail along the column of his neck, nipping and sucking as one arm holds Kurt by the waist and the other begins to stroke his cock in time with the rocking of his hips. It only takes a handful of strokes before Kurt is crying out Blaine's name and coming in his hand. He keeps himself from falling, boneless and limp, back onto the mattress as Blaine pounds into him for a few more seconds, letting out one last breathless moan as he feels Blaine finish inside of him.

They don't say anything as they come down together, disentangling so Blaine can pull himself out — his arms quickly wrapping around Kurt and pulling him back against the warmth of his body. Kurt knows he should clean himself up and start to get ready to head home, but instead he runs his fingertips over Blaine's arm, pressed firm against his chest. There's no place he'd rather be.

* * *

Kurt anticipates that something in him will have changed by Tuesday morning, but altogether it feels like a pretty normal day. Kurt grumbles and groans when his alarm goes off — now regretting having gone to bed so late the previous evening. He and Blaine had finally untangled themselves from each other when Blaine had gotten a text from his parents, letting him know they ran into some car issues but would be home soon. Kurt finally glanced at the time, realizing he was out well past his established curfew. He scrambled to pull on his clothes, cursing under his breath as he gave Blaine a quick kiss goodbye and raced out to his car. He was home in record time, his dad passed out on the couch. He tiptoed down to his room as quietly as he could, and nobody was any the wiser.

But of course, he paid the price in the morning. His body ached in protest as he did some quick morning stretches, trying to wake himself up and prepare for the day. He's sore and covered in bruises left behind by Blaine's lips — just the sight of his once perfect skin, marred red and blue, makes him shiver. He piles on as many layers over his Cheerio's uniform as he knows he can get away with, which isn't much. Coach Sue's dress code is as strict as ever. What he can't cover with clothing, he covers with makeup.

The only notable difference in his day is Quinn. She's noticeably absent from lunch, Blaine shrugging when Santana asks where she is.

"She said she wasn't feeling well this morning. She probably headed home," he replies, and they move on to something else.

Brittany, Santana, and Adam pry Kurt for details about his New York trip and he happily obliges. He spends the rest of lunch describing the beauty of the city and the adrenaline rush of being a part of it all, grinning as his friends hang on to his every word. He doesn't think twice about the fact that Quinn never makes it lunch.

Worry begins to settle in when Kurt gets to Cheerio's practice. The underclassmen are huddled together, whispering behind their hands until they spot Kurt, quickly pulling their hands back to themselves and starting their warmups. Santana and Brittany flank Kurt in seconds, looping their arms through his as they take their time making their way to their designated area of the field.

"Quinn isn't here," Santana whispers out of the corner of her mouth.

"We tried calling and texting, but she hasn't responded," Brittany adds before continuing to nibble away at her raw fingernail beds.

Kurt had figured Quinn had gone home, like Blaine had suggested — but it's well known by all Cheerio's that unless you're on your deathbed, you show up to practice. Kurt had still shown up to practices when he'd missed class because of the flu the previous year, and even Santana had come to practice after she'd broken her foot sophomore year. The only exception to the rule that Kurt knew of was an unfortunate freshman who had contracted the mumps within her first month on the squad — she never returned to the team, even after she had recovered.

Quinn knows the rules as well as anyone. For her to be missing from practice, something must _really_ be wrong. Kurt does his best to soothe Santana and Brittany's worries, shooting Quinn a quick text to see if she'll maybe respond to him, along with another text to Blaine, asking if he's heard from her. They don't have time to do much else, practice always begins at 3pm sharp. Coach Sue notes Quinn's absence immediately, sniffing the air and gazing upon her flock of terrified teenagers.

"Where's Fabray?" Her eyes are fixed on Quinn's usual spot in the center of the pack, now vacant, but Kurt knows the question is addressed to him. He's her co-captain, which for Coach Sue's purposes means they're each other's keepers.

"She wasn't feeling well and had to head home this morning," he states loud and clear. He's still not entirely sure if that's the truth, but there's not much else he can say that won't irritate Coach Sue further.

"Interesting," is all she says, sneering before turning back to her clipboard and scribbling something so furiously her pen snaps in half. Kurt can hear audible gulps behind him.

As expected, Coach Sue takes out her frustrations with Quinn on the rest of the squad. She doesn't grant them their usual five minute breaks in between drills, she keeps them pushed to the edge of their limits for every second of practice. Kurt struggles to keep up with her demands, doing his best to keep the squad in line and serve as an exemplary leader — captaining the Cheerio's has always been a two person job, no one person can handle Sue Sylvester on their own.

After the longest hour and thirty minute practice of their lives, the majority of the squad's concern for Quinn has evolved into anger. Kurt hands out ice packs to his teammates, praising them under his breath when he's sure Coach Sue isn't looking. They're clearly bitter, many of them snatching their ice packs while muttering something about Quinn under their breath. He wants to fight back, defend his best friend's honor. He knows Quinn better than anyone here, he knows that she would never abandon them the way she has without good reason. But he's there to keep the peace, so he remains silent — he'll give them a piece of his mind in the Cheerio group chat once he's back home, away from Coach Sue's watchful eye.

Even Santana and Brittany have lost their patience with Quinn, rubbing their aching limbs as they tredge to the parking lot.

"Who the hell does she think she is, leaving us to Rambo's wrath?" Santana mutters, rubbing at her shoulder blade.

"Did she do it on purpose?" Brittany asks meekly, her eyes wide and filled with tears, threatening to burst. "I accidentally spilled some of my soda on her at lunch last week and I said I was sorry, but she seemed really upset," she says before the tears come trickling down in waves.

"Brit, of course she isn't mad at you," Kurt reassures quickly, pulling Brittany into a hug. Much to his surprise, Santana "Hugging is for babies and menopausal mothers" Lopez joins in on the embrace, pressing a sweet kiss to the top of Brittany's head.

Kurt pulls away with a promise to text them if he hears anything back from Quinn. Once in the safety of his car, Kurt quickly pulls out his phone. He only has one new text, a reply from Blaine saying that he hasn't heard anything from Quinn since that morning, asking if he should be concerned. But there's nothing from Quinn — though he notices that she _has _read his message. Annoyed and frustrated, he begins to compose a follow up text to her, but decides to just try calling her instead. The phone rings four times, he's sure that she's letting all of her calls go to voicemail, when he hears her voice.

"Kurt…" Her voice is soft, so barely audible Kurt has to press the phone tight against his ear.

"Where were you? You're lucky Coach Sue didn't send the Navy out to look for you," Kurt snaps. He's upset, aching, and now well past annoyed with Quinn for keeping them in the dark, worrying about her.

"Can you come over? Please?" she pleads, and this time, he can tell that she's been crying. Her voice breaks, she sniffles and coughs as she struggles to get the words out without breaking down.

His stomach sinks — she really is in trouble. He shakes his head to himself — he couldn't have waited three seconds before blowing up on her? He couldn't resist the urge to be selfish for just a few seconds to let Quinn explain herself?

"Yeah, I'll be there soon," he replies. Quinn whispers a broken 'thank you' before hanging up. He sighs, tossing his phone onto the passenger seat and switching his car into gear. He's not sure what it is that has made Quinn so upset, but he knows it can't be good.

* * *

When Quinn answers the door, it's clear that she's more than just 'not feeling well.' She's pale — even her cheeks have lost their natural rosy tinge. She's withdrawn, her shoulders hunched and curled in as though she's trying to shrink herself. Her hair is piled high in a messy bun instead of her usual pristine ponytail — she's still wearing her Cheerio's uniform, wrinkled and stained instead of washed and pressed.

"Jesus, Quinn, what's going on?" he asks without thinking.

He realizes after he says it how dismissive he must sound — but he's shocked. Quinn has never let herself leave the house anything but flawless. Sure, he's seen her without makeup, decked out in sweats before — but even then she was still graceful, beautiful as she ever was. The Quinn he knows would have to be on the brink of death to let herself be seen in this kind of state.

She doesn't respond, just standing back and letting Kurt come into the house — closing and locking the door behind them. He's sure that her parents aren't back from work yet — the Fabray household is always bursting with chatter and laughter when Russel and Judy are home. She pads over to the kitchen, seating herself at the island and inviting Kurt to do the same. He obliges, sitting across from her — he notices a folded piece of paper in the space between them, Quinn's eyes fixated on it. He doesn't say anything, just folds his hands together in front of him and gives her whatever time she needs until she's ready.

"I got into Yale today," she says, unfolding the letter and pushing it towards Kurt.

He doesn't have to read it to know what it says — there had never been any doubt in his mind that Quinn would get into Yale. No one even wanted to entertain the possibility that she might not get in, there couldn't be a world in which Quinn Fabray doesn't go to Yale.

"Quinn, that's amazing," he replies quietly. He's genuinely excited for her. All of her hard work has finally paid off, she's going to get the chance to live her dream — something most kids in Lima never even get close to. But he knows there must be more to the story.

"But… I don't know if I'll be able to go." She struggles to get the words out, tears streaming down her face as she says them.

Kurt rushes to her side, pulling her into his arms. She quickly melts into him, resting her head on his chest and letting her tears soak through the material of his Cheerio's top. He lets her cry it out, rubbing soothing circles along her back as she heaves for breath in between muffled sobs. When her sobs have quieted down to sniffles, her breathing under control once again, he leans back slightly, placing his hand on her arm.

"Quinn, please tell me what's going," he pleads. He doesn't want to rush her, but more than that he wants to _help _her.

At first she doesn't respond, shaking her head and keeping her eyes trained on the floor. In time, she pulls herself free from his hold, standing up and making her way down the hall. Kurt's brow furrows but he follows her lead, trailing a respectful distance behind her — not sure if she even wants him to follow her. She hovers at the sink in the bathroom, her hands shaking as she sets something down on the counter7. She steps aside, crowding into a corner to make space for Kurt to enter the room with her. He squints at the item she's set down, struggling to make out what it is — only for his jaw to drop as he realizes what the piece of plastic is. He turns to her, prepared to ask a million and one questions, but she answers the most important one on her own.

"I'm pregnant."


	14. Chapter 14

Kurt has done a number of unbelievable things in his life — things that vary from exciting, to the types of things that would've made him blush when he was a bumbling 14 year old freshman. But buying three different types of pregnancy tests from a 7-Eleven on the outskirts of Lima Heights is certainly not something he ever imagined he'd have to do, and yet here he is. He scans the shelves of the "Parental Planning" aisle one last time, double checking that he hasn't missed any notable brands. There's still a decently sized line at the register, with no self-checkout options in sight, and the last thing he wants is to call attention to himself. He dawdles his way up to the front of the store, picking up a bag of Quinn's favorite sour gummies and two bottles of water.

The cashier raises an eyebrow at him as he sets his items down on the counter. He gives the older, heavily tattooed man a shrug. He's not sure what he's doing here either. Thankfully, the cashier keeps his comments to himself and rings Kurt up in judgemental silence.

Back in his car, Quinn has turned on the radio, Alanis Morrisette playing softly as she picks at her chipped nail polish. She glances up briefly at Kurt when he reenters the car before turning her attention back to her nails. She hadn't seen the point in trying different pregnancy tests — she had been convinced by the results of the first and only test she'd taken, but Kurt insists that it's better to be safe than sorry. He reaches into the bag and pulls out the gummies, handing them to Quinn.

"Figured you could use some sugar right now."

She gives him a weak smile, accepting the gummies and ripping them open as Kurt starts up the car to drive them back to her house. They drive in silence, with the exception of the background radio and the occasional crinkling of the bag of candy. Kurt tries to think of something to say — something encouraging or funny that'll take Quinn's mind off of the mess at hand, but he comes up empty. In all his years at McKinley, none of his girl friends had ever had a pregnancy scare — he's not sure what the etiquette for this type of situation would be. Silence winds up sounding like the best option.

Once back at her house, Quinn swipes the bag from the backseat and makes a beeline for the bathroom. She locks herself in, and Kurt takes a seat on the other side of the bathroom door. He scrolls listlessly through his various social media, unable to ignore the pit in his stomach as he strains to hear what's going on on the other side of the door. He's still holding on to the vague hope that the first test had been a fluke, that maybe Quinn isn't really pregnant. He's not ready to reconcile with that possibility just yet.

He does his best to put Blaine out of his mind and focus on Quinn, but he can't help himself. He can't stop thinking back to last night, to the way Blaine had kissed him and asked him if he trusted him before pushing into him, bare and raw, minutes later. Had he done the same thing to Quinn? Had they both chosen to be so careless and convinced themselves protection was about trust and not about saving themselves from the consequences of their actions? He wants to be angry at both of them, but he's angrier with Blaine. Quinn can only be so far along — had Blaine whispered promises of a fresh start and coming clean in his ear one night only to make irresponsible decisions with Quinn the next?

Quinn opens the door nearly twenty minutes later, and Kurt puts his budding anger with Blaine to the side as he steps into the bathroom. She's laid out all four of the tests along the sink, but Kurt doesn't need to look at them to know what they say — the answer is written all over her face. Positive, Pregnant, a pink line, and a smiley face look up at them, taunting them.

"Well, there's that," is all Kurt can come up with.

Quinn groans, sitting down on the toilet lid and burying her face in her hands. Kurt takes a seat beside her on the lip of the bathtub, placing a supportive hand on her knee.

"It's going to be okay," he says, even if he's not entirely sure he believes it.

"How could it possibly be okay?!" she snaps back.

"You have options, Quinn, you're not tied down to any one choice here," he reasons. He knows he needs to give her space to let her emotions out, but they only have so much time to discuss how she wants to handle the situation.

She shakes her head, wiping at the corner of her eyes with the backs of her hands. "I can't keep it," she mumbles, her lower lip quivering.

"Okay," Kurt replies slowly, this is a start. "Well, there are some places we could call to try and get you an appointment. We might have to drive down to Columbus but—"

"I can't do that," Quinn says sternly, cutting Kurt off. "It might not be possible in Ohio and I don't want to drive out of the state in the middle of the night like I'm on the run," she explains.

Kurt sighs, nodding in understanding. Ohio's restrictive abortion laws are certainly a cause for concern — chances are they would have to leave the state if Quinn is as far along as she seems to think that she is. It wouldn't be easy, physically, mentally, or emotionally. He can understand her reluctance.

"What do you want to do?" he asks. It seems like a simple question, but he doesn't expect Quinn to have an answer. Not yet at least.

"I don't know… Adoption, maybe?" she replies with a shrug. "My parents… god, they're going to…"

She never finishes her sentence, she's crying too hard to keep going. Kurt wraps his arms around her again, pulling her in and rubbing her arm. He knows her parents have always put her up on a pedestal — she's their perfect, darling girl. He knows as well as she does that they won't take the news well.

"What if they tell me to leave?" she croaks out, shaking her head as her shoulders heave and shake.

"Then you'll come stay with me," Kurt answers without a second thought. His relationship with his dad may be strained, but he knows that Burt will accept Quinn with open arms if she needs them. "Or with Santana, or Brittany, or Blaine. You'll always have a home."

Quinn winces at the mention of Blaine, curling further in on herself. Kurt pulls back but keeps a steady hand on Quinn's back. He's not sure how to broach the subject of Blaine. He barely wants to discuss it himself, but he knows that they'll have to. His stomach twists painfully, his free hand trembling slightly as he chooses his words carefully.

"You should tell him. Blaine."

The second mention of Blaine's name just reduces Quinn to a fresh set of tears. She's shaking her head and sobbing into her hands, practically folded in half. Kurt pulls her in again, rubbing her arms more vigorously.

"I know, I know it's going to be difficult," he whispers into her hair.

"I can't," Quinn manages to choke out before falling into another sobbing fit.

"Quinn, you'll have to tell him eventually," Kurt pleads, trying his best to fight back his own tears.

All she does is shake her head, mumbling something that Kurt can't quite make out. He vaguely picks up on a couple of words, but can't string them together into a coherent sentence. She sniffles and takes in a deep breath before lifting herself back upright. Her cheeks have regained some of their color, scattered splotches of pink. She looks exhausted, her brilliant eyes have grown so weary in just a matter of hours. Her petite frame trembles as she keeps her eyes fixed straight in front of her. She closes her eyes, a few tears sliding free.

"It's not his," she confesses, and Kurt feels as though all of the wind has been knocked out of him.

Time stands still — all of the wind knocked out of Kurt's chest. His grip on her arm tightens as he inhales sharply. He quickly pulls his hand back to himself, as though he's been burned by her confession. He knows he should keep his expression neutral, he doesn't want to frighten her or make her feel judged, but he can barely process a single coherent thought. Has she been cheating on Blaine this entire time? And with who? And did Blaine know?

"W-what?"

Quinn shakes her head again, turning away from Kurt and exiting the bathroom. It takes Kurt's body a few seconds to catch up with his brain. He staggers to his feet, chasing Quinn down the hall to her bedroom.

"Quinn, talk to me," he calls out, desperate for answers but still keeping a respectful distance.

He lingers in the doorway to Quinn's bedroom, watching her take a seat at her vanity. She's rifling through her drawers, looking for something.

"It doesn't matter," she snaps back, slamming the drawer shut in frustration when she can't find what she's looking for.

"It does matter, Quinn. This isn't a game!"

Quinn slams her hand down on the vanity, bottles of perfume and tubes of lipstick clattering and toppling over. Kurt jumps slightly, not daring to move a muscle as Quinn curls her fingers into fists. She clenches and unclenches her fingers several times before rubbing at her temples, letting her eyes slide closed.

"It's Finn's," she mutters, wincing as she says it.

Kurt's scrambles to cover his mouth after it falls open at Quinn's reveal. It makes sense, once he slows his thoughts down long enough to think about it. Quinn and Finn have always been pulled to one another by some unseen force, not that anyone could understand why. They're terrible for each other in a myriad of ways — they bring out the worst in one another. Finn makes Quinn vindictive, spiteful. In turn she makes Finn envious, motivated by his own selfish needs instead of caring about who he hurts in the process of getting what he wants. In many ways it's similar to what Kurt and Blaine have together — they both know they shouldn't be together, but they can't help stopping something that feels so right.

He scans through his memories of Quinn and Finn over the past several months — wondering if he was so involved with his own affair that he'd missed the signs that another one was brewing right in front of him. Quinn had been more distant than usual, but he'd brushed it off as a side effect of the school year. They had more homework than ever before, along with college applications, everyone was guilty of growing a little more distant. He thinks of every moment he saw Quinn smile down at her phone or daydreaming wistfully — he remembers the way his stomach had twisted at the thought of Blaine sending her flirty, loving messages, but maybe he'd been mistaken all along.

"Go ahead, judge me. I know you want to," she snips, her voice angry, stern.

"Quinn, I'm not judging you," Kurt quickly explains, slowly approaching her, but freezing when he sees the way she glares at his reflection in her mirror. "How long?" he asks, remaining in place.

She scoffs at the question, shrugging before she answers. "A while." A pause, before she adds, "Since the summer."

"You're sure that it's his?" he asks carefully, not wanting to upset her anymore than he already has.

She nods, beginning to pick at her chipping nail polish again. "Me and Blaine were always safe. Finn… there were a few times where… We were stupid. We thought we were invincible," she says with a humorless laugh.

A small, selfish part of Kurt is relieved. He trusts Quinn, he trusts that she's sure the baby isn't Blaine's. It's a weight off of his shoulders, but he can't focus on that. Quinn is what matters most.

"Well, you don't have to start with telling either of them. We can talk to Brit and Santana — they might know someone we can talk to about—"

"I don't want to talk to anyone about it!" she shouts, Kurt wincing.

Kurt bites his lip — he knows almost anything he says won't be what Quinn wants to hear, but he has to be the voice of reason here. "You know you can't hide something like this."

"Even if I can't hide it, what's the point in airing the details of my personal life to the world? Let people draw their own conclusions. What does it matter what the truth is anymore?" She throws her hands up in exasperation, a few more tears breaking free.

"Because this doesn't involve just you," Kurt snaps, standing his ground when Quinn turns in her seat to glare at him. "There are two other people involved. You owe the truth to both of them."

Quinn's eyes flicker from Kurt back to the ground, shaking her head again. "I'm not going to keep it. They don't have to get involved."

Kurt reaches his breaking point — he can't even begin to comprehend the pressure Quinn must be under, but this is where he draws the line. It's one thing to keep the truth from their peers, but it's one thing to keep it from Blaine and Finn. And Quinn should know it's never as simple as keeping the truth to yourself.

There's still her parents, Blaine's parents, Finn's mom. What will Quinn say to her parents when she can no longer hide her pregnancy from them? That she and Blaine are over and therefore they need to give the baby up for adoption? Kurt wouldn't put it past the Fabray's to drag the Anderson's into this mess, plotting a quiet courthouse marriage for their children before the news of their out of wedlock pregnancy begins to spread.

"So you're okay with leading Blaine on? Making him think that he's going to be a dad? Letting Finn wonder if the baby is his or Blaine's? You know that's not fair to either of them."

"Blaine will know it isn't his," Quinn mumbles. "We've… we've been over for awhile. He doesn't have to get involved in any of this."

"He's already involved, Quinn! The world thinks you two are still together. Everyone will think that the baby is his — and both of your parents will, too. Blaine came clean to you, now it's your turn to do the same."

Quinn stiffens, her entire body still. Kurt's brow furrows, prepared to ask her what's going on when she stands up, slowly approaching him.

"How did you know about what Blaine said to me?" she asks, eyes narrowed.

**Fuck.**

Kurt stammers, stumbling as he backs away from Quinn, shaking his head and scrambling to come up with an excuse as quickly as he can.

"Quinn," he starts, but the damage has already been done.

"It's you!" she shouts, pointing a finger at him before turning on her heels, letting out a scream of frustration. "Of course it's you. God, I'm so fucking stupid," she mutters, fisting at her hair as fresh tears stream down her cheeks.

"Quinn, please—" Kurt attempts to approach her, ready to defend himself this time but she slaps his outstretched arm away.

"You want to stand there and talk about honesty? Fuck you, Kurt."

"Please just—"

"Get out."

"Quinn—"

"Get OUT!" Quinn shouts, finally turning to face him again, only to push him out of her room.

He tries to turn back and plead with her, but she slams the door right in his face, the wood mere inches from colliding with his nose. He waits a beat, he wants to try pleading his case again, but he can hear the sound of Quinn sobbing through the door. She's crying harder than ever, her sobs completely unhindered. He wants to open the door, to pull her close and tell her everything's going to be okay. But just as he's feared for the past several months, there's nothing he can do. He's the reason she's hurt, he's the last person she wants to see. He brushes at the tears in the corners of his eyes, taking one last breath before walking away.

He takes his time leaving Quinn's house, hoping that she'll open the door and let him back in, let him explain himself — but he knows her, he knows she's not going to be opening that door anytime soon. So, he swallows his pride and drives himself home, shoulders heavy with the guilt of throwing the final blow that crushed his best friend into pieces.


	15. Chapter 15

Kurt doesn't even make it back to his bedroom before falling apart — it happens in the car, parked in the driveway, only a couple dozen steps from his bedroom. He'd bit back his tears the entire drive home. A storm had been brewing while he was at the Fabray's, but it was at full force now, his windshield wipers working overtime to keep the road somewhat clear — he doesn't need tears clouding his vision too. The moment the car is in park, his body goes on autopilot and his emotions take over. He crumples against the steering wheel, sobbing into his hands. He doesn't feel bad for himself. Sure, he's wracked with guilt about betraying his best friend — but the gnawing sadness taking over him is all for Quinn. Quinn, his amazing best friend, who was on the cusp of getting everything she ever wanted, and now it would all go to shit and he was partially to blame. If he could've just kept his anger in control for one goddamned minute, maybe he wouldn't have been so stupid. Maybe then he wouldn't have let such a minute but heavy detail slip out without even thinking.

Months and months of hiding and secretive rendezvous, all for nothing. He and Blaine's perfectly constructed plans meant nothing now — their cover was blown, and Quinn had gotten hurt in the process, the exact opposite of what they'd both wanted.

He's not sure what Quinn will do with this newfound information. He wants to think she'll keep it to herself, that she won't use it against him the way she's used this same kind of knowledge to hurt others who have blocked her path. He knows how vindictive she can be when she wants — but he also knows how guilty she always feels in the aftermath.

Kurt reaches for his phone, thumb hovering over Blaine's name. He wants to tell Blaine that Quinn knows the truth before she tells him herself — a heads up will at least give Blaine some time to come up with a calm and level headed response, unlike his own blubbering spectacle. But his blunder is only part of a much larger story, one he isn't sure he's ready to tell Blaine. He may have scolded Quinn for wanting to hide the truth about her pregnancy from Blaine, but it's still not his truth to tell, even if they're no longer on good terms. He wants to trust that Quinn will tell Blaine the full truth when she's ready — but even if she does continue to keep him in the dark and the responsibility of filling Blaine in falls to Kurt, it's not a conversation he wants to have over the phone.

He settles on a text message. He keeps it simple, cutting straight to the chase.

_We need to talk tomorrow. Quinn knows about us. _

Not even a full minute after the text has sent, he has an incoming call from Blaine. He sniffles as he rejects the call and finally steps out of his car. He doesn't have the emotional capacity to tell Blaine everything yet, he needs some time on his own to grieve the loss of the most important friendship he has — well, _had. _

_Can't talk now. We'll talk tomorrow._

He sends the message off to Blaine before switching his phone off for the remainder of the evening. He can hear his dad calling out to him when he steps into the house, but he doesn't pay him any mind — he knows he probably looks as terrible as he feels. His dad's words are drowned out as he heads straight for his room, slamming the door behind him and throwing himself onto the bed. He kicks off his shoes before curling in on himself, face buried in a pillow, the room shrouded in darkness. He can hear claps of thunder and see peals of lightning flicker, casting shadows across the room. It feels appropriate, he thinks sardonically — but his storm has only just begun.

* * *

The headache Kurt has the following morning is worse than any hangover he's ever had to endure. Every part of his head feels fuzzy — when he first wakes up close to three in the morning, he can barely process where he is. His entire body protests each minute movement — a harsh reminder of Coach Sue's punishment inflicted on the team for Quinn's absence. Even though he's barely awake and his body is begging him to roll over and go back to sleep, he's filled with an overwhelming sense of dread. He doesn't want to wake up again in the morning — he wants to wake up in a few weeks or months, when everything has blown over. The thought of seeing Quinn in just a few hours makes his stomach twist so harshly, he doubles over in pain.

In time he does fall asleep, curled in on himself and still clenching his aching stomach. The pain isn't any better when he's woken up by his alarm several hours later — if anything it's worse. The morning sunlight confirms that everything hadn't been an awful nightmare. He really does have to face the day.

The morning offers one small mercy — his dad appears to have headed out to the garage earlier than usual. When Kurt stumbles into the kitchen, showered and dressed but still barely functioning, he's grateful that he doesn't have to face one of his toughest critics this morning. He can only imagine what his dad, always so silent and so judgemental, would have to say about his current predicament. Sitting at the kitchen counter, surrounded by silence with his morning cup of coffee helps a bit, but the dread still lingers, growing closer and closer with each passing minute.

He's so warped by his cloud of gloom, he almost doesn't notice the note taped to the fridge. He catches sight of it on his way out of the kitchen, brow furrowing as he pulls it off. His dad seldom leaves him notes — Burt Hummel is not a perfect adult, but he does know how to send a coherent text message.

_"Opening the shop early today. Carole and Finn are coming over for family dinner tonight, make sure you come straight home after practice."_

Kurt groans as he crumples up the note and tosses it into the garbage. Perfect, exactly what he needs today — Finn and Carole Hudson. Just another set of problems pushing the limits of his emotional capacity.

Kurt drags out every possible second he can from the morning. He stops at the Lima Bean for another cup of coffee, then takes the longer route to McKinley. He idles in his car, sipping his drink and watching the clock count down. He finally heads into the building with five minutes until the first bell, just enough time to swing by his locker and still make it to homeroom by 8.

The halls are mostly empty, and Quinn's homeroom is on the opposite side of the building, but he still keeps his eyes peeled for her. He makes it to homeroom without incident, his shoulders slouched inwards as he hunches over his desk. The room is just as loud as ever, bursting with chatter and gossip and laughter. He swears they're all talking about it — about him, about how he's been fucking his best friend's boyfriend behind her back for months. He feels eyes on him, glaring daggers into his back, his whole body uncomfortably warm under the pressure of all the incessant noise. Every time he turns, ready to confront the whispers and lingering eyes he realizes there's nothing there — no one is looking at him, no one even acknowledges his presence. No one knows… yet.

Kurt struggles to focus on anything but Quinn throughout his morning classes. Thankfully their class schedules don't overlap on Wednesdays, but he knows he can't put off seeing her for much longer. Even if he doesn't run into her in the halls, there's still lunch — where he'll have to face not just Quinn, but Blaine too. He briefly considers eating his lunch in the outer courtyard, or even in his car, just to avoid Quinn a little bit longer, but he knows he can't keep doing that forever. He'll have to face her at some point.

When Kurt finally walks into the cafeteria, the look Quinn gives him from across the room is enough to turn even the strongest man to stone. No one at the table notices how she stiffens, except for Blaine. He looks up from his place beside her, lips parting as though he wants to say something — but one look at Quinn and he closes his mouth. Kurt remains frozen in place, the plastic edges of his lunch tray digging painfully into his palm. Quinn looks as though she's seconds away from pouncing on him and ripping him limb from limb — the fury in her eyes is something he's never seen before. He doesn't think he can take another step towards his usual table, and he doesn't think Quinn would allow him to anyway.

"Well hello there, handsome," Adam greets, pulling up beside Kurt with a grin.

Kurt nearly drops his tray as he jumps at the sound of Adam's voice, laughing it off nervously when Adam gives him an odd look. "H-hey, morning, I mean — afternoon," he greets quickly, leaning in to give Adam a quick peck on the cheek.

"Are you alright? You don't look too good."

Kurt knows he should reply with something witty or sarcastic or teasing, but he can't calm his heart down long enough to make his brain come up with its usual quips.

"M'fine, it's just allergies."

Adam, so trusting and kind, doesn't question him, even though it's December, the opposite of allergy season. He takes a step towards their usual table, turning back to Kurt when he doesn't follow along.

"Do you need me to take you to the nurse?" he asks, placing a gentle, steadying hand on his arm.

"Let's switch it up today," Kurt exclaims, ignoring Adam's concerns now that he's finally figured a way out of his predicament. "Why don't we sit with your friends?" Kurt suggests, already trying to nudge Adam in the direction of the glee club's usual table.

Adam had been asking Kurt relentlessly to join him and the glee club for lunch sometime, insisting that Kurt would get along famously with his friends. Kurt had put it off each time, insisting that his squad needed him at lunch, the most critical point in the day for gossip. It wasn't a complete lie, but he'd mostly come up with it in hopes of Adam giving up on the idea. He hardly knows any of the kids from the glee club, and the few that he does know (Rachel Berry, most notably) aren't the types of people he wants to be seen at lunch with. But today, he doesn't have many other options.

Kurt is full steam ahead, reaching back and taking Adam's hand, tugging it and nodding his head towards the glee club table. Adam stammers out a quick _Okay_ before leading the way. The glee table is tucked into the far corner of the lunch room — Quinn could still keep eyes on them if she wanted to, but it's far away enough that Kurt can feel somewhat at ease.

"Guys, this is Kurt," Adam announces once they arrive at the table, smiling nervously as Kurt gives them a wave.

"Why is he here?" Rachel asks without an ounce of kindness.

Tina Cohen-Chang shoots her a look before turning back to Kurt and Adam with a tense smile. "Ignore her."

"Uh, thanks for having me," Kurt says as he takes a seat beside Adam, regretting his brilliant plan when he realizes all eyes at the table are on him.

"So… why _are _you sitting with us today?" Tina asks once Kurt is settled in.

"The last time a Cheerio graced us with their presence, it was part of a plot to fill my locker with airhorns," Rachel snaps, continuing to make her disapproval of Kurt's presence very clear.

Kurt remembers that incident all too well. Quinn and Rachel had gotten into an argument on Twitter, and had sent in Santana as their spy to sit in on a glee club rehearsal and distract Rachel long enough for them to break into her locker. Santana, as devious as she is, wasn't a very successful mole — they were found out within ten minutes. Thankfully, Kurt doesn't have to defend himself — Adam does it for him.

"It's well within my rights to invite my boyfriend to have lunch with me, the same way he's invited me. I was hoping my _friends _would welcome him, but if that's not the case then we can leave."

Kurt tenses. While he should be grateful for Adam sticking up for him, he really doesn't want to have to explain to Adam that he can't go back to the Cheerio's table. He glances over at them out of the corner of his eye, swallowing hard when he sees Santana and Brittany looking at their table with confused looks. They whisper to one another, shaking their heads before turning their attention back to Quinn.

"Looks like trouble for the bourgeois," Artie Abrams sings, having also noticed the looks being sent Kurt's way from his usual circle of friends.

"Can we please not get brought into the middle of whatever's going on?" a mousy freshman whose name Kurt can't place pleads. "I was already slushied twice this week."

Adam frowns, taking Kurt's hand in his, looking as though he's prepared to up and leave the table, but Kurt stands his ground.

"Last I checked, I didn't need to have an ulterior motive to spend time with my boyfriend's friends."

The group quiets down, picking at their food in silence.

"Marley, weren't you in Florida this weekend visiting your aunt?" Adam addresses the mousy freshman directly, giving her a stern but kind look, asking her for assistance in shifting the conversation away from Kurt.

The girl, Marley, obliges — sitting up a bit straighter and filling the rest of the group in on her weekend in Boca Raton. Kurt does his best to listen intently, but he can't resist the urge to peek at Quinn and the others. Quinn doesn't look his way, and neither does Blaine, for the most part. In the middle of a story, Quinn slides her arm through Blaine's, linking their fingers between them on the table. Blaine looks just as confused as Kurt — he's still not sure if Quinn has confronted Blaine about what she knows, but at the very least they haven't put an end to their public relationship yet.

Blaine looks away from his and Quinn's interlocked fingers, lips parting slightly when he locks eyes with Kurt across the room. Kurt's breath hitches as he shifts uncomfortably away from Blaine's gaze. He peeks one last time, wanting to see if Quinn is looking his way. She isn't, but Santana catches his eye instead, mouthing "are you insane?!" — Kurt shakes his head, turning his attention back to the glee club for the rest of their lunch.

* * *

Kurt swears he can hear a death knell in the distance as he lingers in the boys locker room before Cheerio's practice. It's the moment of truth — his only options are facing Quinn or facing Sue Sylvester's wrath. As terrifying as the thought of facing Quinn right now may be, he'll take it over Coach Sue any day. He takes a breath, shutting his locker. He's so on edge that when a hand wraps around his wrist, he lets out a piercing scream, swinging and nearly knocking a frazzled Blaine to the ground.

"Please don't sneak up on me right now," Kurt says in lieu of an apology as he helps Blaine steady himself.

He quickly scans the locker room, confirming that the rest of the football team has made their way out to the field for practice before turning back to Blaine.

"Can you please talk to me about what's going on?" Blaine pleads, releasing Kurt's wrist to take hold of his hand. "Quinn hasn't responded to any of my texts and neither have you, and I'm starting to freak out here."

Kurt sighs, the truth on the tip of his tongue. But he continues to bite it back, now isn't the time or the place to get into things.

"I'm sorry, I didn't mean to ignore you. Can we talk about this tonight?"

Blaine nods, linking his fingers through Kurt's. "Come over to my place after practice?"

Kurt's prepared to say yes when he remembers his dad's note, groaning as he slaps his hand to his forehead. "Shit, I forgot I have this stupid family dinner tonight… I'll try to get out of it and head over to your place."

"No," Blaine reassures, squeezing Kurt's hand. "You should stay with your family. Call me afterwards."

Kurt nods, giving him a grateful smile. Blaine releases Kurt's hand to reach up and cup his cheek, leaning in to press their lips together quickly, sweetly. In those few brief seconds, Kurt allows himself to forget about Quinn, forget about the lies and the guilt and the drama, and just focus on Blaine — Blaine, who makes everything feel alright.

"I'll talk to you tonight," Blaine whispers as they pull apart, gliding his thumb along Kurt's lower lip before heading off to his own practice.

Kurt holds on to that sweet feeling for just a few seconds longer. He lets it go, takes a deep breath for confidence, and follows Blaine's lead out to the football field. He's already cutting it dangerously close to 3pm, he only has two minutes left to get out onto the field and into position. He makes his way to his proper place, beside Quinn at the head of the pack. Nothing seems awry, there are no lingering looks sent his way or hushed whispers. Santana and Brittany try to get his attention, still curious as to his disappearance at lunch, but he avoids their gaze. Quinn turns and regards him coolly as he takes his place beside her — her face unreadable as she gives him a once over before turning away.

"Hummel, walk with me," Coach Sue calls out from her place by the bleachers.

There's a collective sharp inhale at Coach Sue's command, all eyes suddenly fixed on Kurt as he steps out of line to walk towards the bleachers. All eyes except Quinn's.

Kurt stands at attention before Coach Sue, hands clasped behind his back. Coach Sue lifts herself up off of the bleachers and starts walking back towards the track, away from the field. She motions for Kurt to follow her — he falls into step beside her.

"Fabray has brought it to my attention that you two have had a falling out," she says, keeping her eyes straight forward.

Kurt fights back a balk. The last person he expected to know what was going on between him and Quinn was their cheerleading coach. What did the Cheerio's have to do with any of their drama?

"We… had a disagreement yesterday, yes," Kurt confirms through gritted teeth. Less than a minute into this conversation and he's already embarrassed beyond belief.

"You should know as well as everyone else here that I don't want anyone on my squad dragging their petty drama onto the field," she adds.

Kurt does his best to mask his confusion — he has no idea where Coach Sue is going with this conversation. Is she reprimanding him for petty drama? "I do," he confirms.

"Then you can understand why I have to make this decision." She stops in her tracks, just a few feet from the locker rooms. She turns on her heels to face Kurt, lowering her sunglasses enough to peek down at him. "Go get changed and return your uniform to me tomorrow morning. You're off the squad."

Kurt's heart sinks to the pit of his stomach. His mouth falls open but no sound comes out, not a gasp or a protest or a plea for forgiveness. He can't will himself to move for the fear that he'll crumple if he does. His mind is racing, his stomach is twisting, and he's doing his damn best not to cry in front of Coach Sue.

"Coach, please I—"

"I've made my decision, Hummel," she replies sternly before walking back towards the rest of the squad.

This time Quinn does turn to look back at Kurt. She gives him her signature wicked victory smirk before turning her attention back to Coach Sue. He knows that smirk all too well, the smile of a predator who knows they have their prey cornered. He never thought he'd be on the receiving end of one — and he has to admit, it's absolutely terrifying.

"Lopez, take Hummel's spot. You're now Fabray's co-captain," Coach Sue announces to the squad.

The energy on the field shifts as Santana lets out a soundless gasp at the news of her promotion. Her eyes flicker from Quinn, to Kurt, to Coach Sue as she stumbles into his usual place in line. Brittany looks over her shoulder at Kurt, taking a step towards him when Coach Sue yells through her megaphone.

"If anyone dares leave this field I'll make sure you never come back!"

Brittany freezes, frowning as she reluctantly steps back into place and turns away from Kurt. It's for the best — the sight of his team with their backs to him is the final straw before he breaks down. He wipes angrily at his cheeks as he storms back into the locker room, sniffling and sucking in breath after breath, willing himself not to sob until he gets back to the privacy of his car.

He has no idea how Quinn managed to pull this off — and there's no doubt in his mind that this is her doing. She knows his weakness, what he fears the most. Being on the Cheerio's is Kurt's one claim to fame, without them he has no right to remain in the circle of the social elite. They were the only thing keeping him from the bottom of the heap. The news of his dismissal will travel quickly — the whole school will probably know by tomorrow morning. It'll all be over. Three years of work to keep himself afloat at a school that he knew would never accept him if they didn't fear him, all gone. And he has no one to blame but himself.

He's at least granted the privacy of an empty locker room — removing all of his Cheerio gear from his locker. He quickly changes out of his Cheerio uniform, not wanting to look at the harsh red material any longer than he has to. He's able to keep his tears at bay as he gets changed, but as he slams his locker shut one final time he gives in. He leans his head against the cool metal, the sounds of him sniffling and heaving for breath echoing in the emptiness of the room. He stiffens at the sound of approaching footsteps, quickly jumping into action and grabbing his gym bag. He turns the corner, wanting to get out of the locker room and back to his car before he can run into anyone, only to walk straight into David Karofsky's chest.

Kurt jumps in surprise when he realizes that Karofsky isn't alone. He's flanked by a number of his teammates, Finn with his eyes to the ground, lingering on the edge of the group. Kurt's mind reels as he tries to figure out what they're doing in the locker room — football practice should still be going for another hour — when he realizes that everyone is holding something in their hands.

"Don't you dare," Kurt warns as the boys begin to lift up their Big Gulps.

But it doesn't matter. Seconds later he's doused in a cherry flavored shower — he'd spotted five cups just before they pounced, but it feels like more. Every part of him stings from the strange, white hot burn of the piercing cold. He can't open his eyes, he can feel cherry sludge dripping from his eyelashes. It feels like the cold has penetrated every part of him — it's under his clothes, in his ears, under his skin.

"We don't take orders from you anymore," one of the boys, most likely Karofsky or Azimio, spits before tossing their cup at Kurt's feet.

He can hear the clank of the rest of the cups hitting the floor, his hands shaking as he struggles to blink his eyes open. He pushes away enough of the slushy to open his eyes for a split second. The only person left before him is Finn, still unable to look Kurt in his ice clogged eyes. Kurt considers saying something, there are hundreds of things he wants to say to Finn right now. But he stays silent. Their dynamic has shifted in a matter of minutes. He's no longer untouchable, protected by Coach Sue and the shine of the Cheerio name. Finn now has the power to make every remaining day of Kurt's senior year a living hell, and he doesn't trust that Finn won't abuse that power.

It all feels so nostalgic, in the most twisted of ways. In a matter of seconds he's catapulted back to his freshman year, to those torturous months after the news of his sexuality spread through the school like wildfire. The slushies thrown his way in the parking lot, the shoves into lockers, being hoisted into the air and tossed into a dumpster on his way to homeroom, Finn Hudson standing complicitly on the sidelines of his attackers view, thinking that he was better than the others because he didn't hurl the insults or the abuse himself — it all comes back to him. He's spent so long at the top of the pyramid that he'd almost forgotten what it felt like to be at the bottom. But now it's time to accept his new, familiar, reality.

Finn turns and walks away without another word. Kurt waits until he can hear the click of the locker room door closing behind Finn before slowly sinking down onto the ground. He hugs his arms around his knees, wincing at the squelching sound his body makes with every movement. It's uncomfortable, both the position and the shifting of the flavored ice clinging to his skin. He's colder this way, pressed in on himself, but he doesn't care. He rests his head on his knees, and sobs until there are no more tears left in him. Years of work to keep himself afloat in a sea of sharks, months of lies and sneaking around to keep his best friend from getting hurt — all of it gone, over a stupid mistake, a simple slip of the tongue. All of it gone, because of him.


	16. Chapter 16

There aren't many positives to the day, but one silver lining is that Kurt is able to hold onto the last shreds of his dignity by not running into anyone on his sticky walk of shame back to his car. He'd jumped into the shower once he was able to collect himself from the floor, flinching at every sound, looking around every corner for Finn and his goons to return for a second round. He'd never been so grateful for silence and solitude. The shower did wonders for his nerves, calming him down for just a few seconds.

His clothes weren't as fortunate — he did his best to scrub them in the sink, but the stains remained, and as he shrugged into his damp clothing, he realized the stickiness remained too. He didn't even have the option of changing back into his Cheerio's uniform — his open gym bag had gotten thoroughly soaked in the slushy shower. Everything on him and with him is ruined.

It's a wonder he doesn't get into an accident on the drive home. He's a careful driver, but all he wants is to get home, take off these disgusting clothes, take yet another shower, and bury himself under the covers for the rest of the week. He bursts into his house in a rage, slamming the door behind him and heading straight for the laundry room. He strips down, grabbing a clean towel from the folded stack over the dryer, and tosses the rest of his soiled clothing into the washer. He wracks his brain, trying to remember how he removed the stains from his clothing his freshman year, but that part of his past — the useful part — is still locked and buried. The sound of the washer firing up drowns out his groan when he hears his dad calling out for him.

"Kurt, what's going on?" His dad appears in the doorway, eyeing his son suspiciously.

"I'm doing my laundry," he mutters, crossing his arms when his dad blocks his path out of the room.

"Did you have to do this _now_? Carole and Finn are going to be here in thirty minutes — can you please just get dressed and stop… sulking, or whatever it is you're doing right now," he pleads, clasping his hands together as though he's praying for his son to stop being a moody enigma for just one night.

Kurt grits his teeth as he remembers he has to spend the evening with the Hudson family, of all people. In all the madness of the slushy incident, he'd completely forgotten he and Finn would have to sit across from each other in his dining room and pretend nothing had happened. He wonders if this is just another nail Finn is driving into his coffin — forcing him to sit in silence, squashing down the trauma Finn's inflicted on him for the sake of their fake family.

"I'm not going. Have dinner without me." He pushes past his dad and starts to head towards his room, but Burt is quicker than he anticipated. He latches onto Kurt's wrist, holding him in place.

"Kurt, this dinner is very important to me and Carole. Just… please. Carole's had a lot on her plate lately, and we both really need this dinner to go smoothly."

Burt's voice quivers as he reluctantly lets go of Kurt's wrist. Kurt's not sure if his dad is on the brink of tears, or if he's just nervous that Kurt's going to blow up on him. Either way, he takes pity on him. His dad looks exhausted — they both do. He'd much rather do a lot of terrible things than sit across from Finn and not be able to punch him in his very punchable face. But his dad is clearly desperate, so desperate he looks physically pained. Kurt doesn't need to hurt someone else today, so he gives in.

"Fine."

Burt whispers a breathless thank you, so relieved that he braces himself on the edge of the sofa. Kurt shrugs and heads off back to his room. He may have agreed to attending dinner, but he intends to hide out in his room until the last possible second.

When several minutes later, he hears the booming sound of Finn's voice traveling through his open door, he slams it shut as loudly as he can. He knows his dad will be coming downstairs to fetch him in a few minutes, but he'll be damned if he doesn't make sure Finn knows his presence is unwelcome.

As expected, Burt appears in his doorway minutes later with a wary look. Kurt had changed into a fresh pair of yoga pants and a worn t-shirt, quite the opposite from his usual dinner attire. It looks as though Burt's going to protest Kurt's casual outfit, but he decides against it when Kurt shoots him a glare. He's giving the bare minimum and not a single drop more.

He trudges up the stairs behind his dad, giving Carole a half hearted wave when she greets him. He remains motionless as she pulls him for a quick kiss on the cheek. He peeks over her shoulder at Finn, glaring at him where he lingers in the doorway.

The tension in the room is palpable. Kurt has his arms crossed, eyes boring into Finn, willing him to feel uncomfortable. Finn has his hands buried in the pockets of his hoodie, fixated on the carpet. Carole and Burt exchange concerned looks, not sure what's gotten into their sons.

"Kurt, mind helping me set the table?" Burt asks, nudging Kurt in the arm.

Kurt doesn't reply, just makes his way to the kitchen. Burt shrugs at Carole before following his son. They work in silence, Kurt working quickly to pull plates and cups from the cabinets. Burt opens and closes his mouth several times, but says nothing. He wordlessly accepts the stack of plates Kurt hands him, heading to the dining room with a sigh.

Burt and Carole take their usual places at either end of the table. Kurt reluctantly takes his place across from Finn, who keeps his attention on his phone. Carole whispers something to Finn out of the corner of her mouth, smacking his arm when he refuses to pay her any mind. He rolls his eyes as he tucks his phone into his pocket, folding his hands in front of him.

"So…" Burt begins, looking from his son to Finn and back to Carole. "How was school today?"

It should be a harmless question, and yet it's anything but. Kurt slams his serving spoon on his plate as he serves himself a heaping pile of mashed potatoes. Now that he doesn't have to worry about the Cheerios' mandatory weigh-ins, he can at least eat carbs again.

"Fine," Kurt mumbles, taking a large bite to keep his mouth occupied.

Burt doesn't look pleased, but accepts the answer nonetheless. Carole turns to Finn expectantly.

"Fine," Finn parrots. He follows Kurt's lead, shoving an entire dinner roll into his mouth and chewing slowly.

Carole and Burt sigh in unison, both at their wits ends with their sons and they haven't even served themselves yet.

"Alright, what is going on with you two?" Burt snaps, keeping his attention focused primarily on Kurt. He and Finn have grown closer in recent months, but he still doesn't feel comfortable reprimanding someone who isn't his son.

"Ask him." Kurt points his fork at Finn. He smirks when the other boy glares back at him.

"Finn?" Carole asks, placing a worried hand on his arm.

"Kurt got kicked off of the Cheerio's today," Finn spits out, averting his gaze from Kurt the moment he says it.

Kurt scoffs, throwing his fork onto his plate and slamming his fist down on the table. "That's not what this is about and you know it."

"Can you both stop being so damn cryptic and just—" Burt begins, but Kurt doesn't let him finish.

"Finn and his goons ganged up on me in the locker room and threw slushies on me!" It takes all of his strength not to jump out of his seat as he speaks, to tower over Finn and give him a taste of his own medicine.

The room goes silent. Burt's jaw drops, Carole clutches the fabric of Finn's shirt tightly as her son visibly shakes with anger. Finn's red in the face, his grip on his fork impossibly tight, looking as though he's about to lunge at Kurt when Carole tugs on his shirt sleeve.

"Finn… is this true?"

Finn begins to scramble, looking from his mom to Kurt as if in search of an answer. It all goes to hell when Kurt shoots him the nastiest, smuggest smirk he can muster.

"I only did it because Kurt's been sleeping with Quinn's boyfriend behind her back!" he shouts, slamming his hand down on the table.

Glasses clatter and topple over, green beans leap into the air and scatter across the table. Kurt doesn't even notice that his glass of water has fallen over and spilled directly onto his plate of potatoes — his eyes are narrowed to slits, focused solely on Finn.

"Kurt…" Burt begins, once he picks his jaw back up. "Jesus, is that true? With that… that Blaine guy?"

"I thought you were dating that sweet, British boy?" Carole asks, holding her hand to her heart.

Kurt wants nothing more than to jam his butter knife through Finn's thick skull. The only thing this disastrous dinner is missing is bloodshed.

"How long has this been going on?" Burt cuts in again, shifting from surprise to anger. "Have you been sneaking around with this guy? Bringing him into the house?" Burt presses, leaning in closer to his son.

"Why don't you ask Finn how he knows about me and Blaine?" Finn snaps up to attention, eyes going wide.

"Answer me, Kurt!" Burt shouts, spittle flying and splattering onto Kurt's cheek.

Carole jumps at the tone of Burt's voice. "Burt, your blood press—"

"NOW, Kurt!" he screams, ignoring Carole's concerns.

"Fine, yes, it's true!" Kurt shouts back, wrenching his eyes shut. "And it is no one here's business what happened between me and Blaine."

"It damn well is my business when my son is making irresponsible decisions," Burt sasses back.

Kurt scoffs, letting out a dramatic knee-slapping laugh. "That's rich, considering our current company," he says with a pointed glare at Finn.

"Don't," Finn mutters, a warning only Kurt notices.

Oh, but he does.

"Finn has been sleeping with Quinn behind Blaine's back, and if that wasn't responsible enough for you, he didn't even think to use a condom when he did, and now she's pregnant."

It's as though all of the air has left the room. Kurt crosses his arms with a satisfied smirk as he leans back in his seat. Carole looks to be on the brink of collapse as she clutches Finn for balance. Burt finally shifts his attention away from Kurt, turning to Finn in shock. It takes several seconds for Finn's pea-sized brain to process what Kurt's just said, but when it does he begins to tremble. His hands shake and his shoulders slump as his eyes go wide as saucers.

"Q-Quinn's pregnant?" he stutters out.

Before Kurt can answer, Burt turns his attention back to his son. "Living room, now." He doesn't wait for Kurt to comply, grabbing him by the arm and dragging him out of the dining room. "You didn't have to make this about him, Kurt," he whispers out of the corner of his mouth.

That wipes the smirk off of his face. He should've known better. Finn, who is guilty of the same sin as him _and _got someone pregnant in the process, can do no wrong in his dad's eyes. Finn is the golden child he never had, the strapping young man that he _gets. _Burt will never understand him, will never understand that what he and Blaine have is inherently different from the toxic nature of Finn and Quinn — because it's queer, a word Burt claims he's fine with but won't touch with a ten foot pole.

"A lot of things are going to be changing around this house, and you two need to learn to be in the same room without killing one another," Burt warns once they reach the living room, a bit calmer than before, but still bristled by all of the tension.

"What's changing?" Kurt asks.

Burt pauses, sighing before continuing. "Carole and I are engaged."

Now _this _Kurt really laughs at. This is _rich. _Shit is hitting the fan and Burt and Carole decide now's the time to announce they're getting hitched. Absolutely priceless. Kurt laughs until his sides begin to hurt and tears are streaming down his cheeks. Carole and Finn look up from their place in the dining room to peer over at him. When Kurt catches sight of the gold ring on Carole's ring finger, he laughs even harder. Everyone is looking at him as though he's gone insane — which maybe he has. Maybe this was the final straw in this absolute shit pile of a day.

"Kurt, cut it out right now," Burt orders.

But Kurt does quite the opposite instead, wiping off his tears with the back of his hand. "Apologies," he says with a shit eating grin as he makes his way to the hall. "It's just hilarious to me that you seem to think the four of us are just going to blink and wake up one day and suddenly be a family." Kurt addresses both rooms as he speaks, but it's clear his words are meant for his dad.

Burt rockets into the hall, closing the short distance between himself and Kurt until he's crowding his space. "Don't you dare speak to me that way, I am your father!"

Carole looks as though she's going to protest Burt getting so worked up again, but she clams up when Kurt finally tells his dad what he's been dying to say for years.

"But you don't want to be."

Burt inhales sharply, taken aback by Kurt's statement.

"I'm sick and _tired _of being judged by you, just because I'm not who you expected me to be. Go ahead, marry Carole, make Finn your son — then you'll finally have your perfect family. But leave me out of it. I never fit into your plans anyway."

No one stops Kurt as he walks away from the table. He's not sure where he's going, he throws himself into auto pilot and trusts that his body will know where to take him. He grabs his car keys on the way out the door, slamming it behind him. He doesn't feel anything once he's in the car — he's numb as the engine starts up. He's past the point of emotional exhaustion — he doesn't think he can cry anymore, because if he does the numbness will swallow him whole. He drives and drives and drives, not giving a second thought to where he's going. He just wants to be far away from his dad, from Finn, from Quinn, from the Cheerio's — from everything.

With one exception.

Kurt doesn't even realize what he's doing until Blaine answers the phone, the sound of his voice rocketing him back to reality.

"Hey, how did family dinner go?" Blaine asks, his voice as warm and soothing, like a balm on an open wound.

"I'm outside," he replies without thinking. And then he blinks, and realizes holy shit, yeah, he really is outside of Blaine's house.

"Uh, seriously?"

Kurt's eyes fix on the light in Blaine's bedroom, the shapes and shadows dancing behind the closed curtains. "Yeah."

Blaine peers out through the curtains, eyes shooting open at the sight of Kurt on his lawn — probably looking like a serial killer. "Oh, uh, great," Blaine stammers out, his words coming through seconds after they've left his lips. "My parents are downstairs somewhere. Hang on, I'll find a way to distract them."

Kurt chose an optimal time to become a coherent human again — sneaking past Blaine's parents proves trickier than they'd thought. They camp out in the entrance way for several minutes, waiting for Tom and Irene to wrap up their conversation in the kitchen. Once they're safely seated on the couch in the living room, Kurt and Blaine bolt for the stairs, their footsteps muffled by the carpet lined steps.

When the door closes behind Blaine, he immediately goes to Kurt's side, trying not to look too concerned. "I thought we said we'd talk on the phone? Not that I'm not happy to see you, but—"

Before Blaine can finish, Kurt collapses into his arms. He can't hold it in anymore, so he doesn't. He lets himself start to cry again — because now, even if the numbness begins to swallow him, he knows Blaine is there to bring him back. Blaine doesn't ask any questions as he wraps his arms around him, giving him time to cry it out while slowly guiding him towards his bed.

They're wrapped up in one another by the time Kurt calms down enough to start talking again. Blaine still doesn't push him, brushing loose strands of hair away from his forehead and guiding him through several deep breaths. When he's finally ready, Kurt tells him everything — from Quinn missing Cheerio's practice, to driving out to the 7-Eleven in Lima Heights, the multiple pregnancy tests, the reveal of Quinn's affair with Finn, to the truth accidentally tumbling out when he least expected it. He pauses, giving Blaine some time to process everything. This story isn't just about him — Blaine now has to grapple with Quinn's pregnancy too, and the implications of her keeping the truth from everyone.

"But… there's more?" Blaine urges Kurt to continue, squeezing his hand supportively.

"There is. But it's just drama with my family and Finn. It's… it's stupid. We should figure out what you're going to say to Quinn."

Blaine shakes his head, pulling Kurt in closer. "Tell me the rest," he insists, placing a sweet kiss to Kurt's knuckles.

So he does. He whimpers at the memory of flavored ice hitting his skin. He vibrates with anger at the memory of Finn's smug smirk across the table in _his_ house. The pure rage in his dad's eyes are burned into Kurt's memory — that look of disappointment and contempt for his only son. He's crying again by the time he finishes, apologizing profusely as Blaine pulls him to his chest, his lips on Kurt's temple.

"Please don't apologize," Blaine whispers.

Kurt nods, curling his fist in the loose fabric of Blaine's shirt. "Thank you for listening." He waits, listening to the gentle beat of Blaine's heart, before speaking again, his voice barely a whisper. "I'm scared."

Blaine sighs, running his fingertips along Kurt's spine. "Me too."

"If you want to walk away from this I understand."

Blaine's brow furrows — he pushes away from Kurt slightly. "What do you mean?"

Kurt shrugs. "You and I have been nothing but drama since the beginning. If you… if you don't want that anymore, then I won't be upset," he confesses, his chest tightening at the thought of life without Blaine, the only beacon in all of this darkness.

"Kurt, look at me." He does, biting his lip. "I don't know what's going to happen with Quinn, or Finn, or the baby but... you're the only thing I've been sure about for a really long time. I'm not walking away from that."

Kurt doesn't say anything, he doesn't think he could even if he wanted to. There are words that linger on the tip of his tongue, words he's wanted to say for weeks now, but he doesn't let them escape — he doesn't want that moment to live in their memories soured by their circumstances. Now's not the time, but someday soon it will be. So, he kisses Blaine instead, and lets his body say everything he can't.


	17. Chapter 17

**AN: Thank you so much for reading! We're almost to the end, AH!**

* * *

Wrapped up warm and safe in Blaine's arms, Kurt sleeps peacefully. There are no nightmares about slushies or Quinn, and when he wakes up in the morning, dread isn't pressing down on his chest like a ton of bricks. In fact, he smiles. He runs his fingertips over Blaine's arm where it rests slack against his waist, watching goosebumps bloom along his sun warm skin. Blaine snuffles, shifting in closer, nuzzling his nose in the crook of Kurt's neck, inhaling deeply. He can feel the corners of Blaine's lips twitch into a smile.

"How do you smell so good this early in the morning?" His voice is husky and sleep raw, igniting a fire deep in Kurt's belly.

"I snuck into your bathroom to primp before you woke up," Kurt replies jokingly, leaning back slightly to get a proper look at Blaine.

Blaine shifts, more awake now and hovering over Kurt. He smiles down at him, runs his hand up Kurt's chest to rest at his collarbone. "You're gorgeous at all hours of the day." He punctuates each point with a kiss — first along his collarbone, then up his jaw, until he's hovering just over his lips.

"How do you always know just the right thing to say?" Kurt whispers, lifting his hand to entangle in the loose curls at the base of Blaine's neck.

Blaine doesn't reply, he kisses him instead — slow and hot and savory. Kurt wraps his arms around Blaine's neck, pulling him in impossibly closer. It's blissfully carefree, kissing and blushing and touching as the sun continues to rise. But the bliss is deceptive — it's a bandaid on a wound that's nowhere near healed. Kurt knows that the moment he stops kissing Blaine, he'll have to pack up his things and head home — he's already overstayed his welcome. The day promises a myriad of uncertainties. Has Quinn's plot for revenge run its course, or does she still have more planned for him? How will the rest of the school react to his ousting from the Cheerio's? Will everyone have something to say about him now that he's left on the battlefield without a weapon or armor?

"I have to go," Kurt whispers when they pull apart for breath, gently pushing on Blaine's chest.

Blaine nods in understanding, rolling off of him. "I'm going to try to talk to Quinn today," he announces as Kurt starts to get dressed. "I'll try to convince her to let you back onto the Cheerio's."

Kurt freezes. "You really don't have to do that. You probably shouldn't."

Blaine sits up, scooting to the edge of the bed and reaching for Kurt's hand. "What she did isn't fair," he reasons.

"Well it isn't fair that her best friend was sleeping with her boyfriend either," Kurt snaps back. "I'm getting what I deserve," he mumbles.

"You don't deserve to get harassed because of a mistake."

"Maybe I do!" Kurt says louder than he probably should, throwing his arms up in frustration as he wills himself not to cry again. "Maybe this is what I get for spending three years belittling other people just so they would respect me."

Blaine frowns, giving Kurt space to breathe. Kurt's not sure if Blaine doesn't respond because there's nothing to say, or if because deep down he knows it's true. Kurt had let himself believe for years that mocking people like Rachel Berry was okay because someone else would've targeted them anyway. But he could've said something, he had influence — he could've stood up for others when he knew in his gut that what they were doing was cruel. But he never did, because he was cowardly — he chose to save himself instead of sparing others the pain of a tortured high school experience. His grave is deep, but he dug it himself.

Kurt heads over to Blaine's bedroom window, deftly climbing out and down to the Anderson's backyard without a proper goodbye to Blaine. He races home, making it back with barely enough time to shower and change for school — only for his dad to stop him in his tracks.

"Where were you last night?" he asks, blocking Kurt's path to the bathroom.

"With Blaine," Kurt states matter of factly — no point in hiding the truth now.

Burt winces, but Kurt doesn't let that phase him. "I was worried about you last night," he says, voice quiet.

"If you were so worried why didn't you call?" Kurt had expected to wake up to dozens of missed calls and texts from his dad, but there was nothing. It stung more than he'd expected.

"When was the last time you actually answered any of my calls or texts asking where you are?" Burt replies quickly. Kurt shrugs — he's admittedly guilty of always ignoring his dad whenever he's out somewhere he shouldn't be. "It seemed like you needed space," he adds.

"No shit."

Burt narrows his eyes, ready to reprimand Kurt for his language, but decides against it. "I'm sorry about the way I handled things yesterday. But we need to have a discussion about your behavior. Sneaking out in the middle of the night, keeping secrets from me about who you're with, that can't keep happening anymore," he insists.

Kurt sighs. It's not the apology he was looking for, but he's not sure he'll ever get that apology. "I'm going to be late for school," he mutters, crossing his arms.

Burt coughs in surprise, stumbling over his words for a second before finally giving in and stepping out of Kurt's way. "We're going to finish this conversation tonight!" Burt calls out. Kurt throws him a half hearted thumbs up before locking the door to the bathroom.

* * *

In just two days, Kurt is stripped down to his fourteen year old self again. That same apprehension has returned, settling too comfortably on his shoulders. The uncertainty of not knowing what's waiting for him when he steps out of his safe zone stunts him. He becomes withdrawn, paranoid — a shell of the confident person he had been just last week. Kurt Hummel, the Cheerio co-captain, is chipped away piece by piece with each passing day, and now Kurt's not sure who he is anymore. Kurt Hummel, the former Cheerio co-captain? The social pariah? The person who stabbed his best friend in the back and lost his dignity in the process?

For once, Kurt's thankful for his lingering relationship with Adam. He considers putting an end to their relationship once and for all, but hesitates when he realizes Adam is the only real friend he has left at McKinley. Blaine offers to sit with Kurt at lunch, and makes a plan to confront his teammates, willing to put an end to his public facade. But Kurt insists that he focus on trying to reason with Quinn instead. With only a few more days until school wraps for Winter Break, he knows he can think of a more concrete plan then. There's no need for Blaine to needlessly step into the line of fire, especially when there's still a chance Quinn will listen to him. The last thing Kurt wants is for Blaine to become a target too.

Instead, Kurt's able to take up residence at the glee club's lunch table for the foreseeable future, though the glee clubbers make it clear that they're not too pleased by this recent development. They're only more agitated when Kurt confesses to them that he's no longer on the Cheerio's, as they're worried they'll get caught in the crossfire of whatever's brewing between Kurt and his former teammates. Adam doesn't worry, he focuses on the positives instead — he gets to spend more time with his boyfriend, and he's able to soften Kurt's resolve about joining the glee club.

Adam had been begging Kurt to consider joining the glee club since the beginning of their relationship. He's heard Kurt sing along to the radio in the car, everyone knows about his dreams of NYADA, and his Cheerio's career serves as proof that he's an extraordinary performer. Turning Adam down had been easy before — the rivalry between Coach Sue and the glee club choir director, Mr. Schuester, is infamous. It's a well known fact that Cheerio's don't join the glee club unless they want to risk a public beheading at the hands of Coach Sue. But now he doesn't have an excuse.

And, if he's being totally honest with himself, joining the glee club doesn't sound like a completely terrible idea anymore. Sure, he'd have to be stuck in a room with people who hate his guts for an hour twice a week, but he already feels that way every day. At least this way he'd get the opportunity to sing every once in a while. So, he gives in. He doesn't agree to joining just yet, insisting that he just sit in on their last rehearsal of the semester and will decide if he wants to join once they're back after Winter Break. Adam is elated, letting out an adorable squeal as he kisses Kurt on the cheek in thanks and promises him that he won't regret it.

As much as he hates to admit it, joining the glee club also provides him with a secondary layer of protection. He's been able to avoid his usual band of tormentors by taking carefully constructed detours to class and sprinting to and from his car. Just the sight of a red jacket sends him flying in the opposite direction. He knows he won't be able to do this forever — he's lucky he's even able to manage it for two days — but having a place to hide out for an hour after school provides him with a sanctuary.

Ironically, Kurt's luck runs dry on his way to the rehearsal. He has to run back to his car to grab his phone charger, and for a few critical moments, he forgets that his guard should be up. Those few seconds are all it takes — he's mere feet from the entrance to the building when he's grabbed by the waist and hoisted into the air. He immediately begins to thrash and scream, knowing exactly what's coming when another pair of arms grab hold of his legs. His blood runs cold at the sight of Karofsky, smirking down at his captured prey.

"Let me go!" Kurt shouts, struggling against his captor's hold, pounding his fists against the arms holding him up.

"Not a chance, Hummel," the voice behind him says.

They hoist him up higher, their grips tightening as they start walking towards the row of dumpsters on the side of the building. Kurt wriggles and kicks as best he can, but the lugs don't give in — they overpower him in waves. Kurt can see the dumpster coming into view and is ready to give up the fight and resign himself to his fate when a familiar voice cuts through the air.

"Hey! Put him down!"

He's dropped roughly on the ground, only just narrowly avoiding smacking his head on the pavement. He shakes himself off and looks up to see Blaine, red in the face and fists trembling — and unexpectedly, Quinn at his side.

"What's your problem?" Karofsky spits at Blaine.

"What's your problem?!" Blaine snaps back. "You think it's okay to treat people like garbage? Does that make you feel powerful?" Blaine lunges towards Karofsky, pushing his shoulders. Blaine's small enough that it only knocks Karofsky a step, but the damage is done. The jock on his left steps towards Blaine, ready to pounce, when Quinn decides to intervene.

"Stop it! All of you," she shouts, standing in between Blaine and his teammates. "Everyone just… go home," she orders, giving Karofsky a warning glare when he looks ready to protest.

The boys push past Quinn and Blaine, making sure to knock their shoulders roughly on their way to their cars. Quinn finally looks down at Kurt — it's the first time they've made eye contact in days. She looks… sympathetic. But Kurt tells himself that's just what he wants to see. She turns on her heels and walks off, snapping her fingers and gesturing for Blaine to follow. He doesn't, not immediately. He leans down and offers his hand out to Kurt, helping him get back up to his feet.

"Did they hurt you?" he asks once Quinn's out of earshot.

"No. I'll be fine," Kurt replies, brushing himself off and giving him a weak smile.

"Blaine, let's go," Quinn calls out impatiently as a car horn blares obnoxiously. Just over her shoulder, he can see the Fabrays waving to them from their car.

"I'm going to talk to her tonight," Blaine whispers quickly, patting Kurt on the shoulder and jogging away to catch up with Quinn, not giving Kurt a chance to protest.

He sighs as he watches Quinn and Blaine load into the backseat of the car, an obvious tension between them as they maintain a level of distance from one another. He's not sure why Blaine is getting into a car full of Fabrays, but can't help the uneasy feeling that overwhelms him at the thought of him confronting Quinn. He knows it's inevitable — they're going to have to hash things out eventually, but he doesn't think he can handle anymore complications.

He does his best to push all thoughts of Quinn and Blaine to the back of his mind as he makes his way to the choir room. The room is abuzz with chatter — he's able to sneak into the room and take a seat in the back row beside Adam without calling any attention to himself. Adam greets him with an enthusiastic kiss on the cheek, reaching over to link their fingers together on top of Kurt's knee.

"Glad you could make it," he says out of the corner of his mouth as Mr. Schuester calls the club to attention.

The plan is to keep things light, they'll crack down on preparing for sectionals once they're back from winter break. The theme of the week is Iconic Holiday Songs — which is incredibly cliche, if Kurt says so himself. But the club has fun with the assignment. Tina teams up with Artie for a surprisingly saucy rendition of Jingle Bell Rock. Adam is all smiles as he and Mercedes Jones take center stage for a fun and flirty rendition of Baby, It's Cold Outside. Kurt can't help but blush when the entire club lets out an 'ooooooh' when Adam sends him a wink his way as he wraps up the song. Kurt's actually having a good time, even singing along with the rest of the club as backing vocals to Marley's take on White Christmas.

But, naturally, his fun is short lived when Finn comes barreling into the room with only ten minutes left until rehearsal wraps up. Kurt instantly flinches, curling in on himself at the sight of him — prepared for Finn to push past everyone and throw a slushy right in his face.

"Sorry, detention ran long today," he apologizes breathlessly, struggling to catch his breath. "Am I too late?" he asks, but Rachel answers before Mr. Schuester can.

"No, you're right on time," she says with a smile, standing up and guiding Finn to the center of the choir room by hand.

Finn and Rachel only have eyes for each other as they belt out Last Christmas in perfect harmony. The rest of the glee club seems very over their dramatic performance as the song draws to a close. They're gazing into each other's eyes even after they're finished, looking as though they're seconds from launching at each other.

"Alright, thank you for that guys." Mr. Schuester starts up a round of applause to try and break up the tension, ushering Finn and Rachel back to their seats.

Rachel only has eyes for Finn as she follows him like a lovesick puppy back to their seats. Finn is too wrapped up in his post performance high to even notice Kurt gawking at him from the back of the choir room. Mr. Schuester makes his closing remarks, wishing everyone a happy Holiday Break and urging them to continue practicing at home before sending everyone off on their way.

Since when have Finn and Rachel been an item? Kurt can vaguely remember Finn bringing her along to a party once or twice, but there hadn't been any indication that they were seeing each other. More importantly, did Quinn know about Rachel? Kurt's not sure if Quinn and Finn are still meeting up in secret, but Finn certainly doesn't seem to have any qualms leading Rachel into thinking she's the apple of his eye.

"How long has that been going on?" Kurt asks, gesturing towards Finn and Rachel as they exit the room together.

"Too damn long," Mercedes cuts in with a roll of her eyes.

"They've been doing the whole 'will-they-won't-they' dance around one another for months," Adam explains.

"I think it's sweet — they seem to really like each other," Marley pipes up, blushing shyly when everyone rolls their eyes at her.

"It was cute three months ago, now it's just about dramatics. Either get together or don't," Mercedes replies, the rest of the club nodding in agreement.

"They've been doing this for three months?!" Kurt stammers out. He had no idea Finn was even in the glee club, let alone courting Rachel Berry for three months.

Adam nods, linking his fingers with Kurt's and trying to pull him towards the exit. "C'mon, I'll fill you in over coffee. My treat."

Kurt wants to press things further, but resigns with a sigh, letting Adam whisk him away.

* * *

Blaine does his best to turn on his usual charm and charisma for the monthly Anderson-Fabray family dinner, but the sound of Kurt screaming keeps ringing in his ears, forming a lump in his throat. Quinn is unreadable, unmoving and distant beside him throughout the night. She seems frazzled by what they witnessed too, her eyes never leaving her hands or her plate throughout the night. Their parents are too caught up in stories about their latest church fundraiser and recounting workplace gossip to notice the way their children have stiffened, neither of them touching their food.

"You kids aren't hungry?" Judy Fabray asks as she begins to clear plates away to make room for dessert.

"Big lunch," Blaine says.

"No," Quinn answers simultaneously.

"Think I can tempt you guys with some chocolate mousse?" she asks with a wink.

Blaine smiles and politely declines, Quinn keeps her head down and shakes her head. Judy remains unfazed, humming a little tune as she shuffles off to the kitchen to prepare coffee and dessert. The adults take their plates and saucers into the living room, leaving Quinn and Blaine to their own devices.

"Can we please talk about this?" Blaine asks, turning to her once everyone else has fully migrated out of the dining room.

Quinn finally looks up from her plate, looking over at the living room cautiously before replying. "My room," she whispers, before standing up and leading the way.

"Door stays open, Quinnie!" Russel calls out to her. They both roll their eyes.

Quinn plays by the rules and doesn't close the door the whole way, leaving it cracked just enough for anyone passing by to confirm that they're not in the throes of passion. It's the first time Blaine's been able to get Quinn alone since this entire mess began. She's ignored his texts and calls, and skillfully avoided him at school while still managing to maintain the facade that they were still together, always finding a way to escape the moment he tried to get her alone.

"What is going on here, Quinn?" he asks, Quinn shushing him with a finger to her lips.

"Keep it down!" she whispers as loudly as she dares in warning.

Blaine rolls his eyes at her, crossing his arms and trying again. "Can you please tell me what's going on with you? You're ignoring me, you're keeping secrets from me, and you're making Kurt's life into a living hell."

Quinn flinches at the mention of Kurt, taking a seat on the edge of her bed, hanging her head in shame.

"I'm pregnant," she says, her voice shaking. "I-It's not yours… it's Finn's. I… We've been seeing each other again for a while now but… but I never wanted to get back together." She sighs. "We're not good for each other."

"I know," Blaine replies quietly, kneeling down on the ground beside Quinn. She looks up at him in confusion. "Kurt told me," he explains.

She nods, returning her attention back to her shoes as her shoulders begin to tremble. "I'm so sorry, Blaine — I should have told you, but I just… needed more time a-and I was afraid... Of what would you would think of me."

Blaine rushes to take her hands in his, bringing them to his chest and squeezing them gently. He knows how sensitive she's always been about the way she's perceived. He had hoped that they had the type of relationship where she didn't have to worry about pretense or image — and while the thought of her fearing him stings, he can understand her reluctance.

"Quinn, you're my friend, I'm not going to think any less of you just because of something like this," he reassures, smiling softly when she finally meets his eyes.

"Why didn't you tell me it was him?"

Blaine falters, his grip on her hands loosening just long enough for her to pull them back to herself.

"I didn't want to hurt you," he begins. He knows it's a lame excuse, but it's the truth. "You were going through so much already, and… it just never seemed like the right time."

"Why him?" Her voice wobbles, her lower lip trembling.

Blaine shrugs. He's still not sure what it is about Kurt that he was first drawn to — whether it was purely physical, or if it was his ability to pull focus even in the most crowded room. It seems like a blur now, seeing Kurt for the first time and realizing that he wanted to look at him for hours unabashedly.

"I don't know exactly. A lot of reasons. And I'm so, so sorry that I kept that from you," he says quickly, standing up and taking a seat beside her on the bed. "And I know that you're upset with Kurt too, but you should be angrier with me."

Quinn's brows furrow, but she keeps her focus away from Blaine.

"I was the one who went after him," Blaine confesses, and it feels like a weight off of his shoulders, finally wringing out every drop of the truth. "He wanted to tell you the truth from the beginning, but I told him I wanted to wait. You'd just had that whole thing with Frannie and… it was stupid, I know that now. But Kurt was adamant every step of the way that he wouldn't let things go any further unless I told you the truth."

He takes a pause for breath, Quinn still avoiding his gaze. He grabs her hands once more, waiting until she's finally turned to him to continue.

"Quinn, I'm not asking you to forgive Kurt, but… please. People like Karofsky are going to make his life hell now that he's not on the Cheerio's. He doesn't deserve that," he pleads as sincerely as he can.

"I… I didn't mean for all of this to happen," Quinn confesses, pulling back to wrap her arms around herself.

"For what to happen?"

"Any of this!" She storms off the bed, tears streaming down her cheeks. "My emotions have been all over the place, and I was upset and I just… wanted him to know how it felt to have someone betray you, just for a minute." She pauses, wiping angrily at her cheeks. "It was stupid. I didn't mean to hurt him. I-I thought it would scare him, a-and he'd apologize and he'd be back on the squad by next week."

Blaine swallows hard, nodding but saying nothing. He gives Quinn space as she reaches for a tissue and wipes her cheeks properly.

"I tried talking to Coach Sue, but s-she just kept saying that her decision was final, a-and she threatened to kick me off the team too, if I kept asking. I talked to that guidance counselor — Ms. Pillsbury — and she said there was nothing she c-could do, even about the bullying. I-I even talked to Principal Figgins, b-but… but no one will listen."

With each passing second, Quinn grows wearier and wearier, curling in on herself at the edge of the bed until she's almost entirely in the fetal position. She pulls her knees to her chest, burying her face from view as she takes several deep, sob broken breaths. When she finally looks up to meet Blaine's eyes again, her face is splotched red and pink, her eyes red rimmed and puffy as she gives in on holding back her tears.

"I d-don't know w-what… what else to do," she says in between sobs. "E-every time I l-look at him I feel so… so fucking guilty, and I d-don't know what to do."

Blaine rushes to her side, sitting beside her on the bed and pulling her into his arms as best he can. She doesn't uncurl, just buries her head back in her knees and continues to sob as Blaine rubs circles along her back. It's the hardest he's ever seen her cry — he worries that her sobs will ring throughout the house and alert their parents. But he pushes that worry aside and pulls her in closer. It's the first time she hasn't had complete control over a situation at McKinley. He can understand her fear. If Quinn Fabray can't fix a problem, then who can?

His thought process is cut off by the blare of his ringtone. He reaches into his pocket, stiffening when his suspicions about the caller are confirmed.

"It's Kurt." He peeks at Quinn to gauge her reaction. She lifts her head, her sobs boiling down to a sniffle and a whimper.

"You should probably answer it." She wipes at her cheeks and uncurls herself to take a seat at her vanity, turning away to give him some semblance of privacy.

Blaine considers heading out into the hallway, but doesn't want to run the risk of his or Quinn's parents overhearing him, so he shuffles to the opposite corner of the room and accepts the call. He's barely gotten out his greeting when Kurt cuts him off.

"Are you with Quinn?" he asks, clearly out of breath.

"Uh yeah, why?"

"Ask her if she'll talk to me. Please." His voice softens as he pleads. Blaine bites his lip, looking over his shoulder to where Quinn is staring at her reflection in the mirror, poking at the dark circles beneath her eyes.

"He wants to talk to you," he whispers to her, holding out his phone to her.

Quinn takes her time considering Kurt's request. Her eyes dwell on Blaine's outstretched hand until his arm begins to ache. In one swift motion, she flies out of her seat and takes the phone from him.

"Hi," is all she says, her voice unusually pitchy. Blaine does his best not to eavesdrop, keeping his distance, on the opposite side of the room where he can only hear Quinn's side of the conversation.

"What?" Quinn's grip on the phone slackens. "They've… since the beginning of the year?" She trembles as she speaks, sitting back down at her vanity. "Okay…" She trails off, staring blankly at her reflection in the mirror. "I know. Me too." Quinn doesn't say anything more, hanging up and handing the phone back to Blaine.

He sits beside her, not wanting to push her for details, but still curious as to what Kurt had said on the other end of their conversation.

"Can I have some time alone? Please?" she asks politely, but it's clear from the way her shoulders are trembling and how she's begun to curl in on herself that Blaine doesn't really have a choice in the matter.

He nods, but leans over to place one last kiss to the top of her head. He wraps his arms around her, holding her tight the way he always does when he knows she's upset. She rests her hand on his arm, and once she lets go, he does too. He leaves the room, making sure to close the door, and makes his way back to the living room. He feigns a stomach bug and asks his parents if they can head home. They quickly pack up and say their goodbyes, his mom fretting over him every two seconds.

He texts Kurt on the car ride home, asking him if he's okay but not prying about the conversation with Quinn. He replies that he's fine and thanks Blaine for passing the phone to Quinn, promising to fill him in later. Blaine sighs, tucking his phone back into his pocket — ignoring the instructions his mom starts to lay out for him to help him get over his supposed stomach bug. He has no idea what'll happen between Kurt and Quinn now — it's all up to them to find their way back to one another. But he lets himself indulge in a little bit of hope, and maybe now he can Kurt convince to indulge a little bit too.


	18. Chapter 18

Given the disastrous start to his first week of social ostracism, Kurt doesn't have high hopes for the remaining days of the semester. All he wants is to make it through this last week and a half without being pushed so far to the edge of his limits that he has no choice but to break down. Much to his surprise though, things are somewhat calm.

Kurt runs into Quinn a handful of times in the remaining days of the semester — and there's an obvious tension when they do, but he doesn't feel like he's going to turn to stone when he catches her eye anymore. On the last day before Winter Break, they pass each other in the hallway before last period and he considers saying something — but he's not sure what's left for him to say.

After the confrontation in the parking lot, the jocks play their cards differently. Kurt's certainly not free of their torture, but they're more cautious about when they attack him now. They look over their shoulders before shoving him into a locker, and the second time they manage to slushy him, they have someone keeping watch at the doorway. He's not sure if they're avoiding Blaine or Finn, who has also been notably absent from the squad of goons who prey on him, or if the school administration has finally decided to crack down on their unsupervised reign of terror. The jocks still lob insults at him whenever they can, and glare at him as though he's the scum of the earth — but even that tiny layer of protection makes him feel better.

During their last week before break, Kurt comes up with a resolution for the New Year. Honesty. He doesn't want to carry the weight of the mountain of lies he's come up with this year into the next, his (hopefully) final year in Lima. Though reluctantly, he's now honest with Quinn and his dad, and by extension Finn and Carole. He finally talks to Brittany and Santana over the phone and explains that he and Quinn had a falling out. He dodges around the details of what exactly caused things between them to reach their boiling point, but they're satisfied with any semblance of an answer — Quinn has been giving them nothing but radio silence. They offer to plead his case to Quinn and try to get him reinstated to the Cheerio's, but he turns down the offer. He's ready to move on.

The only person he's yet to open up to is Adam. He hesitates at the thought of ending things between them and losing the one person who's willing to associate with him in public anymore, but he knows it's not fair to someone as wonderful as Adam to keep him in the dark.

They're huddled together at their usual table at the Lima Bean when Adam derails Kurt's plans to end things between them over the break, by announcing that he'll be spending the entire break with family back in England. Kurt's stomach clenches at the thought of keeping up with yet another lie for almost a full month. He tries to keep his disappointment subtle, doing his best to match Adam's excitement as he goes over all of his plans for the break, but he fails. Adam quickly picks up on the drop in his mood, pausing in the middle of a story about his family's Christmas traditions to reach out and take Kurt's hand.

"You alright?" he asks, and Kurt really doesn't mean to do this now, but the words are tumbling out before he can catch them.

"I think we need to break up." If Adam's hand weren't on his he'd cover his mouth, so he settles for biting down on his tongue instead.

Adam blinks, releasing Kurt's hand as he leans back in his chair. He takes a few moments to reply, his expression going from shock to amusement to something in between.

"Well, can't say I didn't see that coming," he finally says, eyes on his drink.

"Really?" Kurt frowns — feeling incredibly guilty for having already given Adam the impression that he wanted to end things.

Adam shrugs, taking a sip of his tea before continuing. "You've been… distant, lately. I thought maybe it was the change with the Cheerio's and whatnot, but if I was being honest with myself, I would've known that it started even before that. I suppose it was selfish thinking."

"I'm so sorry," Kurt says quickly, shifting his chair in closer to Adam. "You're an amazing guy, and I know that's what everyone says during a break up, but I really mean it. You tick off all my boxes, and dozens of other boxes I didn't even know I had." This makes Adam laugh, which in turn lets Kurt relax a bit. "There's just… this guy, from before we were together. Things didn't work out before, but they've changed and… I really want to see what happens with him."

He takes a deep breath as he finishes — it's as close to the truth as he can get without outing Blaine. "I'm really, _really _sorry, Adam," Kurt adds when Adam still hasn't responded.

"Well," Adam begins, not looking at Kurt just yet as he crosses his arms across his chest and looks up at the ceiling. "This really puts a damper on my plans to ask you to the Winter Wonderland Ball." He finally turns to look at Kurt, a smirk playing at his lips.

Kurt deflates, bowing his head in shame. He'd completely forgotten about the annual Winter dance, marking the first week of the second semester of the school year — he's had more pressing things on his mind. Besides, he didn't have any intention to go, especially given his current social standing. But he feels guilty for disappointing Adam, for depriving him of the chance to attend a dance with his boyfriend like any normal teenager.

"But maybe now we can go as friends instead?" Adam proposes, nuding Kurt's knee with his under the table.

"Why are you being so nice to me?" Kurt asks, sniffling slightly as he looks up to meet Adam's eyes. Naturally, he'd hoped that he and Adam would be able to maintain their friendship after their break up — but he already had very little confidence Adam would want anything to do with him if he'd followed through on his initial plan to end things. He figured he'd dashed all hopes of friendship with Adam the minute he blurted out that he wanted to break up with him in the middle of a casual date.

"I can't say I'm not disappointed, but it seems like you really need a friend right now, more than anything." Adam reaches across the table again, extending his hand out to Kurt for a handshake. "Friends?" he asks with a quirked eyebrow.

Kurt can't help but smile, fighting back tears of relief and joy as he accepts Adam's hand. "Friends."

* * *

The Winter Break is exactly what Kurt needs. Without the pressure of having to look over his shoulder for letterman jackets everywhere he goes, he's able to focus on the future. His relationship with his dad is still strained, but there's an effort from both parties to change things. Kurt is honest with his dad when he heads out of the house to see Blaine, and obeys his amended curfew. In turn, Burt does his best to be proactive about learning what Kurt is interested in. It's not a complete success — when Burt decides to join Kurt on the couch while he's binging Drag Race, he's far too confused to feign any enjoyment — but Kurt gives him a pass. At least he tried.

Finn and Carole don't make any more appearances at the house — their Sunday 'family' dinners are postponed for the foreseeable future. When Kurt has an awkward run in with Carole at the grocery store, her ring finger noticeably bare — he realizes what he's caused. He considers intervening in his dad's relationship, trying to get them to start things over with a clean slate, but decides against it. They're adults, they can handle themselves. Besides, he's meddled in enough relationships for one lifetime, it's time for him to focus on his own for once.

His own relationship winds up being the easiest puzzle to solve — it's nearly complete, save for a few lingering pieces. Blaine makes a plan to come out to his parents. His brother visiting for the holidays threw a wrench into his original plan, but he decides to wait until Cooper's back in Los Angeles to sit down with his parents. It's not that he doesn't want his brother to know, of course he wants him to know — but he doesn't trust that Cooper won't make such a monumental moment in Blaine's life about him instead, so he doesn't chance it. Once he's out to his parents, he'll be ready to be out to the school.

They're so close to freedom Kurt can taste it. He's able to invite Blaine over to his house without having to sneak him in through a window. Sure, they're not allowed alone in his room with the door closed, but it's a fair trade off. He's able to exchange slow kisses with Blaine on his couch, in the backyard, on his doorstep, without having to worry. His heart pounds a little bit louder with each passing week. They head out to dinner together two days before Christmas — being able to sit across the table from Blaine in a public setting, just the two of them, feels exhilarating. Kurt's fingers ache to reach across the table and pull Blaine in, but he's able to resist. On New Years Eve, Blaine swings by Kurt's house on his way back from a party at Mike Chang's place. Kurt's prepared to ask Blaine what he's doing when he's pulled in by the collar for a kiss just as the clock strikes midnight. Blaine's lips taste like apple cider and peppermint chapstick, and he's somehow managed to get a streak of glitter stuck to his upper lip, and it just might be Kurt's favorite kiss ever.

* * *

Kurt senses that something is off within his first hour back at McKinley on Wednesday morning. He spots Karofsky and Azimio out of the corner of his eye as he crosses the parking lot. He freezes, looking around for a place he can run or hide to avoid them, but he's too late. The boys' eyes lock on him, and Kurt's prepared to surrender himself to whatever humiliation they have planned for him, but instead they keep on walking. They pass straight by him and into the building without a second look his way. Kurt looks around again, sure that there must be a teacher in the distance, but he's alone. He swallows hard, his mind racing as he cautiously steps into the building, almost wishing he'd gotten tossed into a dumpster instead. Almost.

The student body is so absorbed with stories about Holiday Break, worries about the new semester, and gossip about the upcoming Winter Wonderland Ball that no one seems to notice that Quinn is absent two days in a row. But Kurt and Blaine notice.

It's odd for Quinn to skip an entire day of school, she has a remarkable attendance record. It may only be a half week, but Quinn's parents would never let her get away with missing two consecutive school days. Unless something was seriously wrong.

Kurt is still unsure if Quinn is ready to reconcile, though Blaine had filled him in on the argument they'd had just a few weeks ago, indicating that Quinn was remorseful about the way things ended between them. He decides to put the past behind them and sends Quinn a series of texts, asking if she's alright. She doesn't respond to either him or Blaine, who sends even more texts and tries calling a handful of times. He even tries swinging by her house after school on Thursday, but no one is home.

When Quinn is still absent on Friday, others begin to catch on. Santana and Brittany corner Kurt in the lunch room and ask him if he's heard anything. Quinn has been ignoring their texts and calls, too. It's the first time they've acknowledged each other at McKinley — they've all kept their distance from one another, fearing that if Coach Sue caught them together there would be consequences. But they're worried enough not to care about Coach Sue anymore.

Kurt almost breaks down and asks Finn if he's heard anything from her when the biggest bombshell of all comes in the form of a McKinley Muckraker article.

_ **HEAD CHEERIO QUINN FABRAY RESIGNS ** _

Jacob Ben Israel doesn't spare a single detail in his nearly 3,000 word article. He claims to have gotten the scoop directly from Coach Sue herself, who confirmed that Quinn had willingly resigned from the Cheerio's on Wednesday morning, despite not having actually come into school that day. Coach Sue snatches every cell phone in her path as she stalks through the halls, muttering under her breath about never trusting that snot-nosed weasel again.

"Why is this considered news?" Rachel asks when everyone at lunch is too absorbed with reading the article to pay any attention to her story about skiing in the Alps over break with her dads.

Adam was gracious enough to let Kurt continue to sit with the glee club at lunch despite their break up, and the fact that Kurt had yet to actually join the club. Though the club has generally warmed up to him, not everyone is convinced he's not a liability. Kurt bites his tongue, not wanting to snap at Rachel when he already has such delicate standing at the table. Thankfully, Mercedes takes the words right out of his mouth.

"If you had the opportunity to rule this school, would you give it up without a good explanation with only five months left in the year?" she snaps, as though the answer is common sense.

Rachel clams up, huffing and puffing but quieting down nonetheless, and letting everyone finish reading in peace. The article leaves a sour taste in Kurt's mouth for the remainder of the day. He can't understand why Quinn would willingly resign from the Cheerio's. He knew she'd have to abandon her post eventually, once she was further along in her pregnancy, but the Cheerio's are her pride and joy. They're a part of what makes Quinn Fabray who she is — the Quinn he knows would never give that up without a fight. But then again, if there's anything he's learned from this mess, it's that he never knew Quinn as well as he thought.

The conversation at lunch eventually shifts away from Quinn and on to more exciting topics: most notably, the dance. Not surprisingly, Finn had asked Rachel to be his date weeks earlier, but Rachel laments that he's seemed distant lately. She asks the rest of the table for advice, worried that Finn is considering putting an end to their not-quite but almost-there relationship.

"Kurt, have you heard Finn say anything?" Rachel asks meekly.

Kurt clams up as the table's attention shifts to him. He's not certain about the details of Finn's thought process, but he has a very strong suspicion as to why he's suddenly started brushing Rachel off. His cheeks flare as he shakes his head quickly.

"No, he didn't tell me anything." His resolution to be more honest isn't off to a great start, he thinks with a groan. But at least it's not a complete lie — Finn _hadn't_ told him anything. It was what Kurt had told _him_ that was the problem.

Despite Rachel's worries, the conversation takes a lighter turn as the club makes plans to meet up before the dance at Tina's. Adam nudges Kurt's shoulder as they start coming up with a plan for carpooling, but he remains silent. He had never been too keen on going to the dance in the first place, and now all of his worries about Quinn are balled up in the pit of his stomach. The thought of spending a night dancing and laughing and pretending to be carefree when he knows that something is wrong is unsettling.

"If you don't feel comfortable meeting up with the rest of the club before the dance, we could come pick you up at your place on our way there?" Adam offers when Kurt doesn't respond to his nudge.

"I don't know if I should go." Kurt sighs when Adam visibly deflates, his smile dropping instantly.

"Oh, okay," he replies, trying to mask his disappointment with a weak smile, and not pushing the subject any further.

Kurt bites his lip as he weighs his options. He'd already gone through the trouble of putting together a fabulous outfit for the evening — he was planning on debuting the kilt he'd sewn himself over the summer. He'd been initially disappointed when Blaine had said he wouldn't be going to the dance — his brother had insisted on having a family game night before he had to head back to LA, and Friday was the only day that worked. But this isn't about Blaine — this is about Adam, the person who has been nothing but kind and understanding and generous to Kurt, even when he didn't deserve an ounce of it. And to a greater extent, this is also about spending a night with the group of people who, although reluctantly, have let him join their fray, even when he'd been nothing but cruel to them in the past.

When Kurt shows up at Tina's house that night, decked out in his tailcoat and kilt, the chatter in the room stiffles down to whispers as everyone turns to stare at their unexpected visitor. He holds up the bottle of champagne he was able to snag with his fake ID on the way over, holding it out in offering.

"I come bearing gifts?" It comes out as more of a question than a statement — he's prepared to turn back if they decide they don't want him there. Instead, Mercedes cracks a smile and snatches the bottle out of his hand.

"Finally, someone who has the right idea!" she announces before popping the bottle open to a round of cheers.

Kurt is officially welcomed with open arms, pulled into the circle with slaps on the back. He had anticipated that his presence might make things awkward, but no one seems to care — they've put the past behind them and are focused on the present. They pass around sips of champagne, with the exception of the designated drivers, and Tina's parents take enough photos of the group to fill an entire photo album, much to Tina's embarrassment. Before splitting up into separate groups to drive over to the dance, Adam pulls him aside.

"I'm really glad you came," he says with a shy smile.

"Thank you for having me." There's more that he wants to say — he can't count the amount of things he has to thank Adam for, but for now the sentiment is enough.

Adam joins Kurt in his car, along with Mercedes and Artie. They sing along to the radio at the top of their lungs on the short drive back to McKinley, cheeks pink and sides aching from laughter by the time they finally pull into the parking lot. Adam helps Artie get settled into his wheelchair while Kurt helps Mercedes exit the car without letting her dress touch the ground.

"You're not so bad are you?" Mercedes asks once they're out of the car.

He blushes, shrugging his shoulders and picking at a loose thread on his coat. "I'm trying not to be," he confesses.

Mercedes smiles, looping her arm through his and resting her head on his shoulder. "Well, I like the new Kurt." He's not sure if it's the champagne talking or if she really means it, but it makes him beam with pride.

Kurt sticks with the glee club for most of the night, but keeps an eye out for Brittany and Santana. He knows they'll likely arrive beyond fashionably late, as they always do whenever he's not around to force them to leave on time. He eventually spots them on the opposite side of the auditorium and politely excuses himself from the group.

Once the girls catch sight of Kurt walking towards them they meet him halfway and come together for a bone crushing hug. But the excitement is short lived — Kurt knows Coach Sue is likely stalking through the gym, nose in the air to sniff out any whiffs of alcohol. Though he hasn't spotted her just yet, he knows she has a talent for staying hidden in the shadows, and pouncing when you least expect it.

"Coach Sue isn't here tonight," Brittany announces with glee when Kurt begins to say his goodbyes.

"Did hell freeze over?" Kurt can hardly believe it. Coach Sue has chaperoned every school sanctioned event for as long as Kurt's been at McKinley, and likely still did long before he came along. She's Principal Figgins trusted watchdog, cracking down on any and all nonsense and sending kids home with a month of detention if they so much as look at her the wrong way. Chaperoning school dances, she'd once said, was as close as one could get to being a Navy Seal.

"Some guys from the football team tipped her off about a pregame at a warehouse in Lima Heights. By the time she figures out there's no pregame, we'll be at the afterparty."

Kurt's impressed, to say the least. He, Quinn, Santana, and Brittany had spent many hours over the years brainstorming their own plans to distract Coach Sue from her chaperoning duties, but never found the courage to actually put them into action.

"I never would've guessed the football team could actually pull off tricking Sue Sylvester," Kurt muses, nodding in approval.

"They're not in the clear yet. If they're not dead by Monday then we can sing their praises," Santana adds.

With their fears of Coach Sue breathing over their shoulder put to rest, Brittany and Santana launch into a very thorough catch up of all of the gossip Kurt has missed out on. He'd been selfish enough to think that he and Quinn's feud would mark the end of the drama cycle for the remainder of the semester, but the Cheerio's are nothing if not dramatic.

They invite him to an afterparty at Sam Evans place, but he politely declines. While he knows the Cheerio's would welcome him with open arms, he can't say the same about the football team. He shifts the conversation away from himself and back to the girls. He praises their dress choices, particularly Santana's, whose dress is so skintight it would make the devil blush.

"Look at you, showing some leg," Santana says with a cheer as she takes Kurt's hand and prompts him to twirl for them. "You gonna let your boyfriend get down under tonight?" she asks with a wink.

"Adam is British, not Australian," he says, trying to change the topic.

"Same thing." She brushes off his concern with a wave of the hand, nudging him for an answer.

"Actually… we broke up," he confesses, blushing when the girls gasp at the reveal.

"What?!" Santana asks.

"When?!" Brittany chimes in almost simultaneously.

Kurt shrugs, trying to downplay the situation as best he can. "Before winter break. It wasn't going to work out, so… better to end things sooner rather than later."

The girls pout and console Kurt on his recent break up, though they both note that he doesn't seem too torn up about it. He eases their concerns by reminding them that he's had some time to himself to deal with the break up, and everyone involved is moving forward. They plead for some juicier details, but are whisked away begrudgingly when Principal Figgins announces that the Winter Wonderland Ball King and Queen will be announced shortly. Kurt smiles weakly as he watches them both make their way to the auditorium stage, taking their place amongst the rest of the candidates for King and Queen. The girls link pinkies as they stand alone on the right side of the stage, missing their third potential candidate, and the leader of their pack.

It feels like just yesterday Kurt and Quinn were huddled together on her bed, mapping out a plan for her to sweep the votes for Winter Wonderland Queen for a fourth and final year. He can still remember the dress they'd picked out for her after hours of agonizing over options and catalogues — a simple but delicate cream gown. He can remember her trying it on for the first time, so beautiful just the sight of her brought her mother to tears. The memory is so strong, so vivid, it's almost as though Quinn is there. The scent of her perfume, the sound of her voice.

Quinn lives so vibrantly in his memories that it isn't until the waves of whispers and gasps spread through the auditorium that he realizes Quinn _is _there, standing in front of everyone. She makes her way through the crowd, parting like the sea to make way for her as she heads right for the stage. He can only just barely make out the top of her head from his place far behind the crowd. Brittany and Santana exchange worried looks before scanning the crowd for Kurt. They try to communicate with their eyes but he turns away from them in hopes of getting a better look at Quinn. He crosses back to the opposite side of the auditorium, rejoining Adam and the others.

The glee club girls are whispering amongst themselves while trying to peek over the crowd to catch a glimpse of Quinn.

"She probably just came to take her crown and go," Rachel mutters, glaring angrily at the stage.

"Maybe she won't win this year," Tina reasons.

They ask Kurt for his opinion, seeing as he knows the three girls the best, but all he does is shrug, focusing his attention on the stage.

"They all deserve to win," he answers diplomatically.

The girls disagree, they think the crown should go to someone who isn't a part of the social elite for a change, and especially not to Quinn Fabray. They're in the midst of debating whether one should be allowed to win the crown more than once when a fresh wave of gasps washes over the auditorium. Kurt doesn't need to peek over the tops of heads anymore to see what the commotion is about.

Quinn takes her rightful place beside Santana and Brittany. She waves to them in greeting, but they're both too shocked to respond. Quinn is radiant, more so than ever before — her hair piled up in an elegant braided updo, wearing that all too familiar dress, altered from the way that it had been before. It's tighter than Kurt remembers, or perhaps Quinn has grown into it, hugging her in the most specific of places. Her hand rests at the center of her newly curved belly, the object of everyone's attention.

Kurt is as shocked as everyone else, not by Quinn's rounded stomach but by her bold approach to coming clean. Then again, he shouldn't be surprised. Quinn has always loved to make an entrance.

Principal Figgins isn't immune to the shock of Quinn's reveal, stammering and tripping over his words as he reads from his prepared cue cards, going over the usual announcements that accompany every dance and introducing each King and Queen candidate. He's prepared to announce the Winter Wonderland Ball King, snapping his fingers at the band when they forget to play him a drumroll — the entire band too busy trying to sneak a peek at Quinn.

"And your Winter Wonderland Ball King is…" he begins once he gets his appropriate pomp, "Finn Hudson!"

The auditorium breaks out into polite applause — no one is too surprised by this outcome. Blaine had originally been on the ballot, and had been predicted to be the winner by a landslide until he insisted that he be removed, seeing as how he wouldn't be at the dance anyway. That left the voters with Finn or Karofsky — it was an obvious choice.

Finn steps forward and accepts his crown, but his eyes are fixed on Quinn. Kurt peeks over at Rachel, who bites her lip and looks away from Finn, stung by the way he looks over at Quinn. For once, Kurt's grateful that Blaine isn't around — he can't imagine the types of looks that would get sent his way if he had been forced to stand on that stage.

"And your 2020 Winter Wonderland Ball Queen is…" Figgins twirls the Queen's scepter for emphasis as the band plays up another drum roll. But he falters when he opens up the envelope, his hands shaking as he looks up from the envelope to the crowd with terrified eyes. "Kurt Hummel."

Every cliche about shock comes true all at once. Time stands still, the wind is knocked out of him — he feels it all. Every person in the room turns to look at him, and this time it isn't his imagination. He can hear snickers coming from the stage — he looks up to see Karofsky not bothering to hide his amusement while Azimio and his goons share congratulatory pats on the back.

It all makes sense now — they left him alone this week because they knew that the biggest, hardest blow was yet to come. The ultimate reminder that Kurt was, and always will be, a joke to them. They let him get comfortable, trick himself into thinking that he was finally safe, just to crush him when he least expected it. They even went the extra mile and lured Coach Sue, the only person with the power to stop this from happening, away for the night.

He doesn't know whether to laugh at the absolute absurdity of it, or give in and finally break down in front of the entire student body, giving them what they want. Those around him remain frozen in place, unsure of what to do in this kind of unprecedented situation. He doesn't have the luxury of time to calculate his next move, so he does something he hasn't done before. He runs away.

He pushes past the crowds and tries to get to the exit at the back of the gym as fast as he can. He's not sure where he'll go — he could drive all the way back home and break down from the comfort of his bed, or lock himself in a classroom until he's ready to face everyone again. The only sound in the room is the shuffling of bodies making way for him and his own sniffles as he bites back tears. He wishes they would just turn the music back on or make an announcement or something, _anything _to get the attention off of him.

And then something does happen, something he never could have anticipated.

"Do you think this is funny?" Quinn's voice rings out throughout the auditorium, the mic letting out a piercing screech that makes everyone wince.

Kurt stops in his tracks, already halfway to the exit. He peeks over his shoulder, watching Quinn push past Principal Figgins and taking the mic for herself. She turns to the group of jocks who had been laughing moments earlier, addressing them directly.

"Does it make you feel good? Tearing someone down because of who they are? Kurt Hummel is the only person at this school who has always been confident enough to be open about who he is, and the minute he's vulnerable you decide to tear him down. And for what? So you can feel cool? Well, it's pathetic," she spits, this time turning to look right at Karofsky. "The world would be a better place if people like you were even a quarter of the person Kurt is."

Quinn is red in the face by the time she finishes her rant. She scans the sea of gaping mouths and wide eyes until she finds Kurt in the crowd. She smiles when he meets her eyes, breaking the contact just long enough to turn to Figgins and snatch the crown and scepter from him.

"Kurt, this crown belongs to you. Not because of some stupid joke, but because you're the type of ruler McKinley needs. Plus, we all know you're the only who can pull off plastic rhinestones and not have them look tacky." She smiles and holds the scepter out into the crowd, inviting Kurt to come back up and accept his title.

Santana bursts into applause, and Brittany follows suit seconds later. Kurt watches as the stunned crowd follows their lead, clapping until there's no other option but to go up and face his peers. He takes his first hesitant step forward and the crowd parts around him. They push him forward with their applause, not letting up until he's made his way up to the stage. He hesitates before Quinn, still not sure where they stand. She smiles, stepping forward and delicately placing the crown on top of his head. Santana reaches out and squeezes his hand as she does so. Brittany leans in and places a kiss to his cheek as he accepts the scepter. Quinn takes a step back, gesturing for Kurt to take over the mic. He has no idea what to say — whether to continue Quinn's rant and tell off his tormentors for the grief they've caused not just him, but others who they deem unworthy of fair treatment, or whether to thank Quinn for her bravery. He settles instead, for a response that is purely 100% him.

"Eat your heart out, Meghan Markle."

Adam leads the applause this time, Mercedes quickly joining him with a cheer, as another round of applause breaks out across the auditorium. Principal Figgins scrambles to get the band to start up another song to finally put an end to this absolute mess, ushering everyone off of the stage as soon as the music starts back up again. Kurt extends a hand out to Quinn to help guide her off of the stage, which she readily accepts, keeping her hand in his once they're both back on the ground. The silence stretches, both of them looking for something to break the ice, until Kurt decides to follow his heart. He leans forward, pulling Quinn in for a hug, breathing a sigh of relief when she returns the embrace.

"I thought you hated me," he whispers, Quinn waiting until they've pulled apart to reply.

She shakes her head. "For awhile I thought that I did, but… you're my best friend. Best friends forgive each other." She smiles weakly, taking Kurt's hand in hers. "And I'm sorry too. For everything that happened with the Cheerio's — if I had known that those guys would react the way they did once you were off the squad, I never would've done it," she explains quickly, her voice breathy and nervous. "I tried, I really did, to make everything okay again, a-and I… I didn't think I could face you until I did… If you don't want to forgive me, I understand but—"

"You're my best friend too," Kurt cuts off. "And best friends forgive each other, right?"

Quinn is on the brink of tears as she launches herself back into Kurt's arms for another hug. They both giggle as the force of the hug nearly topples them over, Kurt holding her tightly as he steadies the both of them.

"So," he says once they pull apart again, gesturing to Quinn's stomach. "Everyone knows now."

She runs her hands over the smooth fabric. "The longer I hid it, the worse I felt." She trails off for a moment, wiping at the corners of her eyes. "I told my parents. Sort of. I felt awful during the break — I made them cancel our trip to Montana to visit our cousins. They figured it out on their own, they just wanted to hear me say it."

Kurt can tell from the tone of her voice that they didn't take the news well, so he doesn't pry. He lets Quinn take all the time she needs, leaning in closer to be able to hear her over the music.

"They told me to leave." A few tears escape, streaking her mascara as they roll down her cheeks.

"Oh my god, Quinn. Why didn't you tell any of us? Where are you staying?" he asks, all in one breath, already coming up with a plan to make sure Quinn has somewhere to stay tonight.

She shakes off his concerns, squeezing their interlocked hands. "Frannie rented a place while she's here for her Winter Break. I'm going to stay with her until she has to head back."

"What about when she has to go back?"

Quinn swallows hard, shrugging her shoulders. "I'll find somewhere else to stay."

"You can stay with me," he answers quickly. They've only just reconciled, but he doesn't have to think twice about it. Quinn will always be welcome in his home, no matter what.

She nods slowly, wiping the last of her tears and giggling as Kurt swipes away her ruined mascara. "I'd like that."

There are dozens of things Kurt wants to say to Quinn — all of the things he wanted to say when she wasn't there to listen, but he pushes those thoughts away. Things are okay now — there's no use in dwelling on the things he wanted to say before. They should focus on the present instead.

"So, will you honor me with a dance?" Kurt chuckles as he starts tugging Quinn towards the dance floor.

"Actually, I have a surprise for you," she says with a cheeky grin, tugging Kurt in the opposite direction of the dance floor.

"A surprise?"

"Yes, and if you ask me any more questions about it, then it won't be a surprise anymore!" she adds, effectively shutting him up.

He has no idea what to expect — and quite frankly, he's not sure his heart can handle another surprise. Quinn guides him through the crowds, back towards the exit. Everyone has begun to flock back to the dance floor, causing her to lose her grip on his hand. Kurt scrambles to catch up to her, stiffening as he watches Finn approach her with a tap on the shoulder.

Kurt steps back, giving the two their space to hash out whatever's left between them. The conversation doesn't look hostile or cold, and it's briefer than he would've thought. He knows Quinn and Finn can go on for hours and hours about the tiniest thing and still never reach a resolution. Watching Quinn turn Finn around and push him towards the dance floor with a smile is a sign of progress. There are no tears glazing her vision, no words quaking and sitting on the tip of her tongue as Kurt finally approaches her.

"You okay?" he asks, following her line of vision. They watch Finn approach Rachel, who waits expectantly for him on the opposite end of the dancefloor, offering up his hand for a dance.

"Yeah. I'm fine," she replies.

"I'm guessing you two aren't…" Kurt doesn't know how to finish his sentence. Together? Being honest with one another? Keeping the baby?

"We're done," Quinn answers for him — she doesn't need to know the question to know that this is the answer he wants.

"Do you want to talk about it?" he asks tentatively. She may look and say that she's fine, but he knows how deceptive words and appearances can be.

She shakes her head, still not looking away from Finn and Rachel as they make their way to the dance floor. "Not tonight."

Kurt drops the subject — he knows Quinn will tell him everything once she's ready. He keeps a careful eye on her from the corner of his vision. Just weeks ago, the sight of Finn and Rachel together would send her into a rage. But she looks calm, amused even.

"They make sense, in a very twisted kind of way," she observes as they watch the two twirl and sway their way to the dancefloor.

"He's got a skull thicker than iron and she's an annoying little wood nymph. They're made for each other." He almost feels guilty, but he pledged to be more honest, and he's speaking nothing but the truth.

Quinn cackles and rewards him with a high five, finally looking away from the happy couple. She links their fingers once again and continues on their journey to the 'surprise.' Kurt only grows more confused as she drags him down a series of hallways until they reach the opposite side of the building. The halls are almost completely shrouded in darkness, all of the overhead lights turned off for the night.

"Did you give that whole speech just to convince me to follow you so you could murder me?" he asks as she knocks on an empty classroom door.

"No. If I wanted to murder you I would've done it already." She winks before throwing the door open and flicking the light on, gesturing for him to follow her. He doesn't have time to question Quinn's motives, his jaw dropping when he realizes they're not alone.

It turns out his heart can handle one more surprise.

"Hi," Blaine whispers.

Kurt is too shocked to say anything at first, letting out a series of intelligible sounds — Quinn does her best not to laugh at his reaction.

"What're you doing here?" Kurt finally manages to choke out. "I-I thought you had that thing, th-the game night?!" He gestures wildly to where Blaine's standing, as though he's a figment of his imagination.

Blaine laughs as he steps over to Quinn, bumping her shoulder with his. "I _was _supposed to be at family game night, but a very convincing young lady insisted that I escort her to her last ever Winter Wonderland Ball," he explains.

"But I thought it might be more fun to keep my date a surprise," Quinn finishes. "Besides, he's not really my date anymore." With that, she begins to back away, nearly out of the room when she pops her head back in. "And don't forget the playlist!" she calls out to Blaine, before closing the door behind her.

Finally alone, Kurt lets out a deep breath and takes Blaine in. It seems impossible for him to be handsomer than he already is, but he manages it. His suit is beautifully cut, and an astonishingly perfect match to Kurt's own outfit. He reaches out to run his fingertips along the lapels of his suit jacket, confirming that he's indeed really standing in front of him.

"This might be the most insane night of my life," Kurt says as Blaine wraps his arms around his waist.

"Do tell," Blaine urges with a quirked eyebrow.

But Kurt shakes his head, wrapping his arms around Blaine's neck. "Later. I want to focus on this," he says before kissing him.

Blaine happily leans in to meet him, his grip on Kurt's waist tightening and bringing him in closer. They stay just like that, exchanging slow kisses and wrapped up in one another in the middle of the room, until Blaine pulls away with a snap of his fingers.

"Can't forget the playlist," he says with a chuckle as he pulls his phone out of his pocket.

Kurt rolls his eyes — he knows all too well about Quinn's obsession with curating playlists. She has one for every occasion — from the minute (showering, cooking, folding laundry), to the major (heartbreak, disappointment, breaking a bone), Quinn has every spectrum of the human experience covered. Blaine flashes his phone to Kurt as he opens up the playlist Quinn has specifically created for them, nestled between her bedtime and Finn Break Up #3 playlists.

_For Kurt & Blaine._

Blaine hits the play button and sets the phone aside on a nearby desk. He extends his hand out to Kurt as he returns to the center of the room.

"May I have this dance?"

He bites his lip, as though offering himself to Kurt still makes him nervous even after all this time, and he's so beautiful and wonderful Kurt could cry, but all he can think to respond is:

"Yes, you may."

_If I follow you tonight and leave tomorrow…_

Kurt lets Blaine pull him in, linking their fingers together, resting his free hand on Blaine's shoulder and letting Blaine take the lead. It doesn't matter that Kurt has never heard the song that's playing before — he's never understood Quinn's obsession with indie pop — they find their own rhythm.

_If it's all forgotten love, forgotten love…_

"You look stunning," Blaine whispers against Kurt's temple.

"You don't look half bad yourself."

"The compliment of the century," Blaine teases. "My mom will be delighted to know that her mad dash to find me a presentable suit on a Friday afternoon wasn't in vain."

"You can tell her she's outdone herself." Kurt pulls back slightly, looking down at Blaine with complete adoration. "But even if she didn't, you'd still be the best guy here."

"Best dressed? Best looking?" Blaine prods with a coy smirk.

"Best of all. You exceed expectations in every category."

Blaine stills, no longer swaying along to the music. He drops their interlocked hands, and his arm from Kurt's waist. Kurt frowns, pulling his hands back to himself, preparing to ask Blaine what's wrong when Blaine says the words that have been on his mind for weeks.

"I love you."

_If I follow you then I will need you closer…_

Kurt's lips part in a silent gasp. His heart is racing as Blaine starts to close the distance between them, but this time it's his turn. He gently holds Blaine back, resting a hand over his heart.

"I love you too."

_One more day is not enough…_

Kurt didn't think anything could ever top their New Year's Eve kiss — something so sweet and loaded with promises of a future together. But he's wrong. _This _is his favorite kiss ever.


	19. Chapter 19

There had once been a point in time when the sight of Quinn and Kurt together would churn Blaine's stomach. Watching them laugh together, glancing back at him over their shoulders before exchanging cheeky whispers — it would reduce him to clammy hands and incoherent stammering.

He can remember sitting across from them on a blanket one late May afternoon — picking up the last remnants of their picnic and stowing them in his backpack while Quinn and Kurt talked amongst themselves. He can remember catching Kurt's eye for just a second, wondering how it was possible for someone so breathtaking to exist in a world so drab and colorless as theirs. He can remember looking away quickly, as though just maintaining eye contact with Kurt would bring him to pieces. He can remember Quinn sliding across their picnic blanket, pulling him in for a kiss that felt so different from every other one they'd shared before — a kiss that marked the beginning of the end of their story.

Watching Kurt and Quinn now, pulling each other in for one last hug before going their separate ways for the night — it feels like coming up for air. He can see the tears glossing their eyes as they wave goodbye with promises to see one another on Monday. They're an enigmatic duo — each capable of great things on their own, but incredible when they're together. With both of them back in each other's corners, the balance of their small, complicated world has been restored.

Knowing Quinn and Kurt have each other again makes things easier. He's apologized to both of them often for the role he played in their falling out, plagued by what ifs even when all is said and done. What if he had never agreed to Quinn's original proposal and been true to himself from the beginning? What if he had ignored what he had felt for Kurt? What if he had waited? What if he had told Quinn the truth sooner? What if he had been less cowardly? He knows he was able to emerge from the war that pulled Quinn and Kurt apart relatively unscathed, even if he had been the one to throw the first stone. It feels unfair — and even if both Kurt and Quinn assure him that they've forgiven him and it's alright to move on, he worries. He worries that things can still implode — because, unlike them, he still has one more truth to tell.

Blaine counts the days until Cooper heads back to LA. The truth bubbles up and up with each passing day, until it's sitting on the tip of his tongue as they drive Cooper to the airport. He bites it down as they say their goodbyes, willing himself to stick to his plan for once. He bites down even harder when Cooper gives him one last slap on the back before heading off towards the TSA line.

"Next time I see ya, you're going to be a changed man, Bee," he says with a grin before blowing a kiss to their mother and walking away.

He knows what Cooper means — he likely won't be visiting Ohio again until the holidays next year — but he can't help the laugh that escapes as he watches Cooper walk away. If only he knew.

The truth sits between Blaine and his parents as they stop for dinner on the drive back from the airport, stretching the few feet between them to miles. He picks listlessly at his food, grateful that they're too occupied with their worries about Cooper and his Los Angeles actor lifestyle to notice that his mind is elsewhere. All he has to do is make it back home, sit them down, and tell the truth — that's all. He's gone over what he's going to say hundreds of times, and calculated twice as many possible reactions his parents may have. But there are still hundreds of possibilities he hasn't considered, or that he perhaps doesn't want to consider.

Blaine loves his parents, he loves them so, _so _much, and he knows they love him twice as hard. But no amount of love can prepare oneself for this kind of moment. As a child, he'd thought that a parent's love had no limits, but now he knows that sometimes it does. Quinn learned the hard way that her parents had a limit. The Anderson's may be unlike the Fabrays in dozens of ways, but there are still some similarities. And it's terrifying to think that this might be one of them.

All he wants is to blurt out the truth, to get the potential pain over with, like ripping off a bandaid. But he owes it to himself to do this the way that he wants to, on his own terms — not because he let the potential consequences scare him into pulling the trigger too soon. In the end, the fear of the aftermath of the truth helps him swallow it down. If things don't go as planned, he wants to be at home when it happens — not stranded in the parking lot of an Olive Garden trying to hitchhike his way back to Lima.

Once back home, he hyper fixates on the little details he's never noticed before — the picture of him in his first communion suit over the fireplace, the framed copy of the Mother's Day card he made in first grade, the stack of books on the entryway table that he always tells his mom he's going to clean up but never goes. He wants to remember it all — all of the little things he may not have appreciated about his home before. In case he has to leave it behind.

He thinks of the duffle bag, stuffed to the brim and hidden under his bed. The bag was Quinn's idea, a gentle suggestion when he told her the details of his plan. It was the one thing she wished she'd thought of — packing up her things before she left everything behind. She claims she misses the things she left behind more than she misses her parents, but he knows that can't be true. Quinn is more sentimental than she is materialistic. But he packs the bag anyway, thanking her for the advice.

"Bee, are you feeling alright?" His mom worries over him, pressing a cool hand to his forehead and taking a peek at his eyes. "You barely ate anything at dinner. Do you think you have that stomach bug again?" She frowns, cupping his face in her hands as she examines her son she thinks she knows so well.

"I, um, c-can I talk to you? Both of you?" He can't look away from her, she won't let him. He has to watch the worry bloom in her eyes as she nods.

"Of course sweetie." She does her best to look calm as she ushers him into the living room, calling for his dad to join them.

Blaine takes a seat on the couch, his mom perched on the edge of the chair beside him. His dad takes a seat in his usual plush armchair with a groan, rubbing at his aching back — not looking at all concerned until he sees the worry written all over his wife's face.

"What's going on?" he asks, frowning when he sees that all too familiar nervousness in his son, shoulders tight and eyes to the carpet.

"I… have something I w-want to talk to you both about… s-something I've been meaning to t-talk to you both about for a while. And I need you to let me tell the whole story, no interruptions," Blaine begins, taking in a deep breath.

His parents exchange worried looks. His mom reaches out for her husband's hand, their interlocked fingers resting in the space between them while her other hand comes to rest on Blaine's knee.

"You know you can always come to us, Bee, about anything," she reassures, squeezing his knee before pulling her hand back to herself.

Blaine shoots her a weak smile, nodding in understanding. He knows he can come to them with anything, and in most cases he usually would. But this isn't about a problem at school, or a fight he had with his brother. This is something much bigger than either of them know.

He begins with the first layer of the truth.

"Quinn is pregnant."

He can hear the sharp inhales from both of his parents the moment he finishes. They drop each other's hands — his mom's flying to her heart, Blaine's dad cradles his face in his hands.

"Jesus, Blaine," his dad mutters, his mom already near tears.

"I'm not finished," Blaine snaps. He knew they wouldn't likely take the news of Quinn's pregnancy well, and knew equally well that they wouldn't keep their upset with him hidden. At first, he hadn't planned on telling them about Quinn's pregnancy — your son coming out about his sexuality is already a significant bomb to drop. But he doesn't want to hide anything from them anymore, and Quinn is at the center of their story. She'd given him permission to tell his parents with a shrug, brushing off his concerns about her not being able to tell them herself.

_"I'd rather you tell them. I don't need another judgemental lecture from parents that aren't even mine," she'd said, still wounded from her own confrontation with her parents._

"I'm not the dad — it's her ex, Finn," he explains. His mom breathes a sigh of relief, his dad letting out a low whistle as he leans back in his chair, the two of them exchanging relieved looks, though they both tense up again when Blaine clears his throat.

"Quinn and I… we haven't _really_ been together. For a long time. W-we started off as something kind of real, and then at some point we… stopped. She started seeing Finn again, and I-I... I found someone else, too."

He pauses for breath, wringing his hands together as he goes over his next words carefully. His mom looks sympathetic — she must still think this is a story about how her baby boy got his heart broken. She leans over again, resting her hand on top of Blaine's, his palms trembling underneath her gentle touch.

"Quinn and I are ready to put our relationship to bed. We don't want to lie to ourselves and our families anymore… She's going to focus on the baby, a-and I'm… I-I'm going to focus on the new person I have in my life."

"Didja cheat on Quinn with her? Is that why she went with this Finn guy?" his dad asks, sitting on the edge of his seat, looking from his wife and back to Blaine. He looks uncomfortable as he asks it, probably twitching at the thought of his son doing something so cruel to the girl they've come to love so much — the girl they consider family.

Blaine inhales sharply, his mom pulling her hands back to himself, giving him space to breathe. He digs his fingers sharply into the skin of his arm, the pain giving him something other than his nerves to focus on.

"Him."

He doesn't look up from the carpet — he doesn't think he can handle seeing their faces. The silence says enough.

"W-what?" his mom asks.

"I didn't cheat on Quinn." He didn't, not really. Neither did she, not really. "We both… we agreed that if I met someone else, we would end things. And I did. And he's… he's really, _really _amazing."

He finally looks up from the ground, tears already clouding his vision before he can see the shock written across his parents face. "I-I'm…" Another deep breath, to hold back the tears. "I'm gay."

He wants to end it there, wants to end on the truth and nothing else. He doesn't have to explain himself, or make excuses for his actions — the ball should be in their court. But he feels like he's going to explode if he spends another second being suffocated by their silence.

"And I'm sorry if that's upsetting to you, but that's who I am. And if you can't or don't want to accept it, then…"

He falls short. Then what? Then he'll leave? He'll do them one last favor and relieve them of the pressure of asking their son to leave and never come back by leaving on his own?

They're still silent. His mom has a trembling hand covering her mouth. His dad's head is hung low, propped up by a hand on his forehead, shaking his head. It's all that Blaine needs to see.

He rushes out of the room, tears silently streaming down his cheeks as he bolts up the stairs to his bedroom. The world is a blur, the pictures on the wall, the bannister, the carpet all morph into a horrible cloud of grey and red and blue. He's not sure if he's going to be sick or pass out or evaporate into nothing or worse. He collapses on the edge of the bed, his shoulders heaving as he struggles to hold himself up. He reaches for the duffel bag blindly, tugging on it as hard as he can, but it's become stuck. He pulls and pulls, but all of his strength is gone — it feels like every bit of energy left in him has been bled dry. He slouches against the side of the bed, giving up on the bag in favor of curling in on himself, burying his face in his knees.

He doesn't realize that his mom is at his side until she cups his cheek, the cool platinum of her wedding band stinging his tear-wet skin.

"Blaine, sweetie, please look at me," she pleads — she's been crying too. He knows what she sounds like when she cries — the way her voice goes high and pitched, threatening to break at any moment. He wishes she wouldn't say anything at all, he doesn't want to know how much he's hurt her just by the sound of her voice.

He jumps when an arm wraps around his shoulder. His dad has settled in on his other side, squeezing his shoulder and rocking him just slightly — holding him the same way he had all throughout his childhood, for every disappointment and tantrum and cut and scratch and burn.

"It's okay, Bee."

Blaine peeks up from his knees, rubbing at his eyes as his parents begin to come into view. His mom is trembling. She feels so small folded up beside him, tucked firm against his side. His dad remains strong, but he can see the crack in his armor for just a moment — he chokes up for just a second when Blaine turns to look at him, but he pushes it down and puts on a brave face.

"You guys aren't mad?" Blaine asks, still unsure if they're overwhelmed by disappointment, anger, or relief.

"No, sweetie, of course not," his mom answers quickly, taking Blaine's hand in hers. Blaine turns nervously to his dad, to confirm that he shares the same sentiment. He nods, reaching out and grasping his wife's free hand.

Blaine feels so relieved he could burst. His parents frown as a fresh wave of tears roll down his cheeks — but he doesn't have the time to assure them that they're tears of relief this time.

"Was it… Is there something we did?" his mother asks tentatively, his dad squeezing her hand when her voice wavers.

"W-what?"

"What did we do?" She asks more insistently this time. "Is it something we said or did that made you uncomfortable? We love you, Bee. We love you so much, no matter what. A-and we thought that you knew that, but… what happened that made you think you couldn't tell us how you were feeling? That you had to do all of this with Quinn?"

Blaine shakes his head, wiping at his tears as he sits up straighter and drops his knees from his chest. "Nothing, you guys didn't do anything I just… I was scared. I-I didn't know what you guys would say. I didn't w-want you to be… to be disappointed in me," he confesses, and they flank him as soon as the words out of his mouth, both of them moving in sync to wrap their arms around their son.

"We would never be disappointed in something that makes you who you are," his mom whispers into the fabric of his shirt.

"We love you, Bee. We're always gonna love you," his dad adds, a single sob escaping as Blaine wraps his arms around his parents in return.

"Thank you," he whispers.

_Thank you_ doesn't feel like enough — it doesn't convey the way their embrace has pulled him from a dark depth he didn't think he'd be able to climb out of. But it does for now — now he has time to find the right words to tell them how thankful he really is.

* * *

The shift is subtle, but immediate. It feels odd at first, not waking up everyday feeling like he has to put on a performance, but Blaine adjusts quickly. By the end of the week, he feels comfortable telling his parents that he's going to be coming home late from football practice — blushing when they remind him that sleepovers are still forbidden. There are still occasional mentions and questions about Quinn, but not from the lens of a potential in-law. They ask how she's adjusting to moving in with the Hummels, or how the baby's doing — Blaine is always happy to answer that she and the baby are great.

It's a strange sort of wonderful, this very new but very familiar life he now has. Every day feels exciting in a way that his days haven't felt before. But today in particular, is a _very _exciting day.

The Anderson household is abuzz from the moment everyone wakes up. Irene heads straight to the kitchen, serving a quick breakfast before focusing on the more important task at hand. Decked out in her bathrobe and pincurls, she flits around the kitchen prepping their late afternoon meal, chopping and dicing and sautéing and frying, all while singing along to the radio. She initially turns down Blaine's offer to help, but when she glances at the clock and realizes she only has an hour left until their special guest arrives, she enlists his help in mashing potatoes.

Tom works on tidying the house — vacuuming the living room and dining room, and even his and Irene's bedroom, even if he knows the door will be closed. He dusts and mops, and beams when his wife praises his handiwork. He busies himself in the backyard while Blaine helps out in the kitchen, watering the plants and brushing off their underused patio furniture.

The Andersons come to a collective halt when the doorbell rings. Blaine sets down his spatula and rockets to the front door before anyone can beat him to it. He doesn't even bother to do his usual once over in the mirror beforehand, too anxious to break his stride. He laughs when he's greeted not by Kurt, but by an opulent bouquet of red and yellow roses concealing most of his face.

"Is it too much?" Kurt asks in lieu of a greeting, peeking his head up over the tops of the flowers.

"Absolutely," he assures with a smile before pulling Kurt in for a welcoming kiss. "And I love it."

Blaine breaks the kiss just in time — he can hear his mom's kitten heels scurrying towards them. He laces his fingers through Kurt's, giving him a wink before turning to his parents. His mom gasps at the sight of Kurt, and quickly apologizes for her inappropriate reaction. His dad's eyebrows shoot up in surprise once he pulls up to the entryway, giving Blaine a knowing look.

"Mom, dad — you guys both know Kurt, my boyfriend."

"Hello." Kurt waves at the Anderson's, smiling nervously at the obvious shock on both of their faces.

Keeping Kurt's identity a secret from his parents had been Blaine's idea. They'd insisted on meeting this 'very special guy' since the day Blaine had come out to them. He checked in with Kurt and they agreed to a late afternoon lunch the following Sunday. Throughout the week, his parents pried him for more details about his new mysterious beau, but he only dropped the occasional tidbit. He's an amazing singer, he's a senior at McKinley, he wants to move to New York in the Fall. He assumed that they'd be able to connect the dots on their own, but couldn't resist teasing his parents just a little bit when it became clear they weren't going to figure out that they'd already met Blaine's mystery man.

Their reactions are well worth it — Blaine can't stifle his giggles as his mom gapes at Kurt like a fish out of water. His dad pinches her shoulder, and she quickly shuts her mouth. She puts her shock aside long enough to pull Kurt in for a welcoming hug and two kisses on each cheek. She accepts the bouquet of flowers with a grateful coo, burying her nose in the blooms for a second before turning her attention back to the boys.

"Well, there is a _very _interesting story here." Kurt blushes, ducking his head shyly. "Lunch will be ready in ten minutes, I want all of the details," she insists, waving a warning finger at them before turning on her heels and heading back into the kitchen. Blaine's dad shoots him a wink before following his wife's lead, giving the boys a moment alone together.

"Boyfriend, huh?" Kurt asks once they're sure they're alone, crossing his arms smugly.

"It seemed like an appropriate title," Blaine explains, leaning in to wipe away the lipstick stains his mother left behind on Kurt's cheeks. "Unless you don't think so?" he tacks on, trying not to appear nervous as he does so, but Kurt sees right through him.

He laughs softly, turning his head to place a soft kiss to Blaine's palm. "I think it's perfect," he reassures.

Blaine doesn't bother trying to downplay his excitement, pulling his boyfriend in by the tie for another kiss.

* * *

Blaine would have never thought it was possible to go through such a wide spectrum of emotions during a single meal — but his parents manage to pull it off. His nerves fall to the wayside moments after they're all seated at the dining room table. The shock has finally subsided and his parents are able to focus on getting to know Kurt again — this time as Blaine's boyfriend.

Kurt and Blaine take turns telling the parts of their story that are PG enough for parental consumption. They dodge around the physical — the shower blowjobs, the janitor closet makeouts — in favor of focusing on the emotional arc of their story. The moment Blaine knew that he wanted to pursue Kurt, the moment Kurt knew that he had a helpless crush on his best friend's boyfriend. They tell the story of their first kiss with rosy cheeks and bashful smiles, making sure to leave out the amount of alcohol it took to weaken their resolves.

They haven't even made it to dessert when Blaine's mom sets out on a mission to embarrass him, as payback for keeping Kurt's name a secret. She sets off to the living room in search of Blaine's baby photos. Blaine jumps out of his seat, trying to stop her in her tracks, but his plans are thwarted by his dad, who wraps his arm around Blaine's shoulders so firmly he can't break free.

"You scorned your mother and now you have to pay the price," he warns before dragging Blaine to the living room, motioning for Kurt to follow along.

Blaine pouts and crosses his arms childishly as he's plopped down on the couch across from his mom, his dad keeping a watchful eye on him. Kurt doesn't bother hiding his amusement as he sits down beside Blaine's mom, shrugging when Blaine shoots a glare at him.

"You have to pay the price," Kurt echoes, earning him a high five from Blaine's dad, which leaves Blaine both fuming and overjoyed.

Kurt swoons and squeals over each and every photo, his mom highlighting her favorites of just Blaine at first, then pulling out her favorites of both Blaine and Cooper.

"There aren't many of them together," she explains. "They couldn't go more than two minutes without squabbling over something."

Kurt's voice climbs up an entire octave over a photo of Blaine at his third birthday party — a costume party in the Anderson's backyard. He's decked out in an elaborate Elmo costume — which his mom proudly notes that she made herself — frowning like it's the end of the world while standing in front of his birthday cake and dozens of his friends from preschool.

"He was upset because we had to cut his nap short for the party," his dad recalls, patting Blaine on the back. The pout he's wearing now isn't all that dissimilar from the one in the picture. He shifts away from his dad's touch grumpily, muttering something under his breath about the importance of a healthy sleeping schedule.

"Here, you should keep it." Before Kurt can protest, the photo is slipped out of it's plastic casing and thrust into his hand. "Use it as a bargaining chip when Blaine gets on your last nerve," she suggests, closing Kurt's fingers carefully over the photo.

"If I had known you were going to sabotage my relationship,I would've kept you two apart!" Blaine argues, waving his hands at the stack of photo albums they've now made their way through.

"Kurt and I are kindred spirits. We would've found a way to embarrass you with or without your help." His mom brushes him off with a wave before turning to Kurt with a cheeky smile. "I think I have some tapes from his first piano recital in the basement."

Kurt is halfway to the basement before Blaine even has the chance to stand back up.

Blaine pouts and huffs and puffs for the rest of the afternoon, but his will starts to break down when Kurt slides up beside him, wrapping an arm around his waist and peppering short, sweet kisses to his cheek, cooing about how cute he was as a kid.

"Does that mean I'm less cute now?" he asks, finally looking at Kurt with a smile instead of a look of exasperation.

"Mm. You're still cute. In fact — the cutest." Kurt rewards him with a peck on the nose before returning to the box of memories Blaine had long forgotten.

Blaine doesn't have it in him to dwell on that childish anger. Watching Kurt and his mom laugh and smile together is enough to warm even the most frigid of hearts. Besides, Blaine gets his revenge soon enough. Burt happily hands over Kurt's most embarrassing baby photo at their newly reinstated Sunday dinners (now consisting of Kurt, Burt, Quinn, and Blaine) the following week. Kurt blows a fuse when Blaine hugs the photo of a two year old Kurt crying in the bathtub with glee — insisting that a picture of him in the _nude _is far less appropriate than a photo of Blaine in an Elmo costume. But he loses the battle when he refuses to give up the photo of Blaine, resigning with a grumble that Blaine kisses away.

They never use the photos against each other after all. Instead, they live in each other's wallets — nestled comfortably between movie stubs from what they deem their first official date, and matching polaroids of them curled together, asleep on Kurt's couch — a gift from the photographer herself, the one and only Quinn Fabray.


	20. Chapter 20

**AN: Thank you so, so, SO much to everyone who has read and supported this story, it truly means the world! :)**

* * *

The morning starts off like any other, but there's an electric spike in Kurt's mood from the moment he wakes up. He springs up at the first buzz of his morning alarm, not snoozing or dawdling in bed like he usually would. He bites his lip as he scans the text Blaine sent him just moments earlier.

_Ready for today? :)_

He smiles, subconsciously running his fingertips over the delicate star charm dangling from his wrist. The bracelet, much like Blaine, has become a constant — a little piece of Blaine he can always carry with him. It's too early to be this happy, he thinks to himself as he types back an enthusiastic reply confirming that yes, he is _very _ready for today.

The projected forecast for thunder and rain throughout the morning is seemingly proven wrong — sunlight streams through Kurt's open window, and he can hear birds chirping in the distance, welcoming the long awaited arrival of Spring. When Kurt makes his way upstairs and sees that the bathroom is blessedly free, he knows that this is going to be a great day. While having Quinn as a roommate has been wonderful in many ways, he's quietly counting down the days until his ensuite bathroom's shower is finally repaired — sharing a bathroom with a pregnant teen girl isn't without its challenges.

He makes it through his morning shower and skincare routine without interruption. There's a quiet knock at the door as he's putting the finishing touches on his hair. He opens the door with a flourish, knowing already that Quinn is on the other side of the door — his dad never hesitates making his need for the bathroom known. She rolls her eyes at his dramatics, taking him by the arms and pulling him out of the room.

"Yes, yes, you look amazing, now please let me deal with the baby that's sitting on top of my bladder," she pleads before closing the door behind her.

"Does the minion want pancakes or yogurt for breakfast?" he calls through the door.

There's a pause, the sound of humming before, "Pancakes."

Kurt smiles and nods even if Quinn can't see him, practically leaping back to his bedroom. He'd had the foresight to pick out his outfit for the day well in advance. Quinn had sat diligently on the edge of his bed while he sampled a variety of options, the two going back and forth for nearly two hours before finally settling on the perfect ensemble.

Kurt's whistling a tune he's made up as he heads back up to the kitchen to prepare breakfast for himself and Quinn. He's not surprised to see his dad already in the kitchen, mug of coffee in hand. But he _is _surprised by what's on the counter in front of him.

A large grey envelope, addressed to him, with the NYADA insignia emblazoned in the upper lefthand corner.

It's the envelope he's been waiting over two weeks for. He'd been checking the NYADA message boards religiously since the first week of the month. He'd watched as message board regulars rejoiced as their acceptance letters came rolling in. Every other post was a caps-locked, key-smashed mess of excitement proclaiming _I GOT IN!_ All of the regular posters, the people who had been preparing for their audition practically since birth, got in — not to anyone's surprise. He'd gotten a handful of messages from the other applicants he'd interacted with, asking him if he'd heard yet, but he was too embarrassed to admit that he hadn't.

In just a few days, the joyful, excited posts were buried by posts of a completely opposite nature. Somber, morose posts from those who had gotten their rejection letters — outlining what they think went wrong, how unfair the judging system is, and how they were heartbroken but would try again next year. Kurt deactivated his account when even the somber posts began to dry up. Everyone had heard back by then. Everyone but him.

His support system was quick to reassure him that this wasn't anything to freak out about. His dad reminded him that he still had other schools he hadn't heard from yet — Tisch and Parsons most notably — and that a lack of a letter didn't necessarily mean rejection. Quinn stood by his side for every trip to the mailbox, squeezing his hand through each day of disappointment, promising him that no matter what happened they'd still be taking New Haven and New York by storm in the Fall. Blaine, who already has acceptances to NYU Steinhardt and Columbia under his belt, assured him that New York would still be waiting for him, with or without NYADA.

But it's in his nature to worry, and worry he does. He does everything from racing home after school to check the mail to hunting down their usual mailman and triple checking that he hasn't forgotten anything that's addressed to him — but now the answer's here, sitting on the kitchen counter.

"Looks like this got sent over to the neighbor's by accident," Burt explains, gesturing to the envelope. "They just dropped it off this morning."

"Oh my god," is all Kurt can say as he braces himself against the counter, eyes boring into the envelope until the words on the label begin to blur.

"It's a pretty big envelope. That's gotta be a good sign, right?" Burt offers, but Kurt remains despondent.

"I can't open it," he mutters, burying his face in his hands and shaking his head.

"C'mon, of course you can," Burt urges, sliding into the seat beside Kurt, pushing the envelope closer to him. "If you had to wait another day for this to get here, you would've started up a lawsuit against the postal service."

Kurt cracks a smile, peeking at his dad between his fingers. "What if they don't want me?"

"Then they're idiots," Burt answers quickly. "And you let yourself grieve, and you move on."

Kurt takes in a deep breath, dropping his hands to his sides and closing his eyes. He breathes in and out, until the pounding of his heart doesn't drown out the sounds of the room. He reaches for his left wrist, pressing the star charm into his skin for exactly three seconds, the same way he has every time he's opened the mailbox for the past several weeks. For luck.

He opens the envelope quickly, the same way he would rip off a bandaid. He pulls out a stack of papers, along with some booklets, but doesn't let himself get too excited. For all he knows it's a detailed listing of all the reasons they chose not to accept him. He only has to read one word before he launches out of his seat.

"I GOT IN!" he shouts, throwing the acceptance letter into the air.

Quinn, who arrives with impeccable timing, lets out a scream as she rushes over to Kurt. Burt joins in on the excitement with a cheer, pulling both Quinn and Kurt in for a hug.

"I'm going to New York!" he exclaims, bouncing with excitement between Quinn and Burt.

"He's going to New York!" Quinn and Burt cry out in perfect harmony, both attempting to bounce along with him, but giving in when they realize they're — in Burt's case — older than they thought — and in Quinn's — far too pregnant to be leaping into the air.

Burt and Quinn settle back into their seats, happily watching Kurt dance and twirl around the room as he continues his celebration. He stops just long enough to finish reading the acceptance letter aloud for his attentive audience. Burt gets a head start on celebratory pancakes while Kurt and Quinn browse the Accepted Students Catalogue together.

"I think this calls for a celebration dinner," Burt announces, twirling the spatula in his hand. "Breadstix tonight at six?"

Kurt's only just opened his mouth when Burt beats him to the punch. "Yes, you can invite Blaine."

Kurt beams, nodding and clapping happily before turning to Quinn. She frowns, tugging at the corner of the catalogue.

"I'm meeting Shelby after school — she found a store in Lima Heights that sells maternity prom dresses."

It's not surprising that Shelby, the soon-to-be mother to Quinn's unborn daughter, has become a more regular fixture in Quinn's life. The adoption agency Quinn had spoken with shortly after moving in with the Hummel's was quick to set up a meeting for her and Shelby, a show choir coach at Carmel High. Quinn was hesitant at first, not wanting to go with the first prospective parent she met — but it took hardly any time for her to realize that Shelby was the perfect choice.

"We can push to seven?" Kurt proposes.

"If that's alright with you, Mr. Hummel?" Quinn asks hopefully.

Burt shrugs nonchalantly. "Seven it is," he says before turning back to their pancakes.

Quinn and Kurt squeal one last time before returning their attention back to the catalogue. They thank Burt for their blueberry pancakes, though Quinn's only able to take a bite or two before she has to excuse herself to the bathroom. She had hoped that her morning sickness would subside once she crossed the threshold into her second trimester, but as luck would have it, her body decided that wouldn't be the case.

Burt takes Quinn's newly vacant seat moments later, clearing his throat to get Kurt's attention. Kurt looks up from the catalogue, closing it and turning to give his dad his undivided attention.

"Kurt," he begins, taking a pause to find the right words before continuing, "I'm proud of you. Really, _really _proud of you, bud. I've watched you work your ass off for this school, and I'm so damn happy you're gonna get the chance to do what you've always wanted to do. And… I'm sorry if I didn't say that often enough. That I'm proud of you. 'Cause I am, not just now, I always have been… Sometimes I just forgot to say it."

Kurt's breath hitches, he's mere seconds from breaking down in tears as his dad takes off his worn ball cap, rubbing at his head.

"You're just so much like your mom sometimes, and that… that can be a lot for me. I knew her for almost twenty years, and I don't think I ever totally understood her. But I loved that about her. And I love that about you too. You keep me on my toes. And I'm sorry that I made you think that I judged you, or didn't approve of the way you, uh… lived your life. I mean, I didn't approve of some of your choices, as a dad and all, but y'know… you're a good kid, Kurt, I'm proud you're my kid. I'm gonna make sure I don't forget to say it this time."

As soon as he's finished, Kurt launches himself at his dad. He can't remember the last time they hugged like this, and twice in one day, at that. It's been so long, it should be awkward, or stilted — but they fold in on one another like it's second nature.

"Thank you," Kurt says into his dad's shoulder.

Burt doesn't reply, just pats Kurt on the back and holds him tight for a few more seconds. They're not quite to the point of tears when they pull apart to a comfortable silence, but the tears are on the horizon. Kurt glances from the acceptance packet back up to his dad, biting back a smile.

"You should invite Carole tonight. To dinner."

Burt's eyes go wide. "A-are you sure?"

Kurt nods, standing up and beginning to collect the dirty dishes. "Yeah. I'm sure."

He laughs as his dad cracks an enormous grin, nearly tripping over himself in his haste to rush out of his seat and into the next room, presumably to call Carole. He's got all the giddy excitement of a teenager in love — Kurt can relate.

"Did I miss something?" Quinn asks as she returns to the kitchen, teeth brushed for a second time and makeup retouched now that her skin is less clammy.

"I'll explain in the car." He tosses Quinn her travel mug of herbal decaf tea and nods his head towards the door.

* * *

Kurt's excitement is to the point of boiling over by the time he pulls into the McKinley parking lot. Quinn regrets letting him stop for a second cup of coffee — he's practically vibrating out of his skin as he scrambles to unfasten his seatbelt.

"Calm down, Road Runner. Blaine's not even here yet," she gently reminds him, leaning back in her seat and propping her hand up on the curve of her belly.

Kurt pouts and slumps in defeat. Naturally, this was the one morning Blaine had to get caught in traffic on his way to school. He fidgets uncomfortably, still buzzing with nerves and excitement and far too much caffeine as he scans the parking lot for any signs of Blaine's car. Quinn does her best to distract him, asking him what he thinks he'll order for dinner tonight and whether he remembered to DVR the latest episode of _90 Day Fiancé_.

"Last week Shelby asked me if I had thought about any names for the baby," Quinn says when their lighter topics run dry.

It succeeds in grabbing Kurt's attention — he finally looks away from the window, looking over at Quinn. "Have you?"

She nods slowly, running her hands down the crest of the bump. "I want her name to be meaningful, something… symbolic."

Kurt nods, reaching out to take her hand when he sees her tense up, blinking up at Kurt with a look of apprehension.

"Elizabeth. Beth for short," she says, Kurt's lips parting in a silent gasp. "I can never repay you or your dad for everything you've both done for me, but I thought that maybe this—"

She doesn't get to finish — Kurt wraps his arms around her before she can. He pulls her in for a hug that's perhaps tighter than it should be, but neither of them care. He wills himself not to cry — today is _not _the day to be red-eyed and splotchy, but it takes an enormous amount of will.

"I love it," he whispers, hearing her quietly sniffle as she squeezes her arms around his middle. He rests a hand on top of her bump once they pull apart, dabbing at the corner of his eyes with his free hand.

"Hi, Beth," he whispers, and though the baby doesn't kick, he knows she heard him.

They sit in silence, Quinn's hand on top of Kurt's, both of them smiling down at her bump until a familiar face appears in the rearview mirror.

"Go get your man," Quinn says with a grin when Kurt looks up at her, as though asking for permission to exit his own car.

He gives her a quick kiss on the cheek before he rockets out of his seat, back to the vibrating bundle of excitement he was just five minutes earlier. Quinn rolls her eyes, taking her sweet time getting out of the car herself.

"Well, someone's having a good morning," Blaine notes as Kurt slams the car door behind him and greets him with a kiss on the cheek.

"I got into NYADA!" Kurt shouts, not bothering with a proper salutation.

It takes a second for Blaine to process the sudden news, but his jaw drops when he does. "Kurt, that's amazing!" he exclaims before pulling Kurt in for a hug and leaning back, attempting to lift Kurt into the air.

Kurt squeals, both in excitement and in fear that Blaine'll drop him, clutching onto his shoulders for dear life. Quinn finally makes her way over to their side of the car, watching in amusement as Blaine nearly topples over from the force of trying to carry someone several inches taller than him.

"Leave it to you two to break your necks before you can even get to New York," she teases as the two straighten themselves out.

"I think I could pull off a neck brace," Kurt replies, straightening out Blaine's now lopsided bowtie.

"I don't doubt that, but let's hope we never have to find out," Blaine says with a comically straight face.

The trio linger in the parking lot for a few more minutes, filling Blaine in on the details of the morning and formally inviting him to Kurt's celebratory dinner. Quinn breaks off from the group when she catches sight of Santana and Brittany pulling into the parking lot.

"See you at lunch?" she calls out to them over her shoulder.

"I have glee rehearsal today, I'll see you at dinner," Kurt calls out in reply before she nods and heads off to join Brittany and Santana.

"Good luck in there, boys!" Santana calls out as she sticks her head through the sunroof, Brittany honking her horn twice for emphasis.

Kurt rolls his eyes and Blaine blushes scarlet, but they both call out their thanks for the support.

Kurt turns to Blaine with an uncharacteristically shy smile, a light blush creeping along his cheeks. "You ready to do this?"

Blaine reaches out and takes Kurt's hand, lifting it up to his lips. "Ready as I'll ever be," he assures with a soft peck to the back of Kurt's hand before letting their hands fall back to their sides.

Kurt nods, turning to face the entrance to the school with a sigh. He squeezes Blaine's hand once for luck, and takes the first step.

They're hardly three feet through the door when the whispers and gasps begin. Eyes travel from Kurt to Blaine to their hands swinging together between them fearlessly, the way they have in private for months. The murmurs aren't subtle, and neither are the shutters of phones snapping photos that'll be sure to spread like wildfire. Blaine stops in the thick of the crowd, surrounded on all sides by gossip-hungry onlookers. Kurt turns nervously, ready to ask Blaine if he's alright. The whispers start as sizzles and balloon up to a pop as Blaine pulls Kurt in for a kiss, right there in front of everyone.

There could be silence, boos, or cheers as they pull apart, but it doesn't matter. Kurt doesn't see or hear anything that isn't Blaine as he smiles at the boy he loves.

"I've wanted to do that for a really long time," Blaine says.

They still have the rest of the day ahead of them, and all of the days to come. The days could be hell, or the days could be bliss, but for once Kurt doesn't worry. He doesn't have to. Not anymore, when he knows that no matter what anyone thinks or says or does, they'll never be able to touch what he and Blaine have.


End file.
